Shadows of the Past
by annablossom4703
Summary: Princess Leia and Han Solo are now proud parents, but a deadly threat looming over the family forces the two to leave their child in Jedi care. Fifteen years later, their child is determined to figure what happened that fateful day. Will the child complete this rite of passage or will the shadows of the past consume what little remains of this family?
1. Prologue

Hello, everybody! Before I begin, I want to make you all aware that I call my readers Butterflies. Also, this is _my_ idea of what happens after the events of _Star Wars Episode VI: Return of the Jedi_, and I'm disregarding the expanded universe (although I do have a lot to learn from it). One last note before I start the chapter: this is the stand alone intro to what I hope will be a trilogy, and I have plans to collab with Blondiebugsie for at least one of the stories. Oh, I forgot! At one point, Leia sings a lullaby; the lullaby is supposed to be sung to the tune of "Across the Stars" from _Star Wars Episode II: Attack of the Clones_. That's all I've got. Disclaimer: _Star Wars_ belongs to Disney.

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(3rd Person POV)

_In current times in a galaxy far, far away . . . _

**Shadows of the Past**

The Millennium Falcon lands about two meters away from the rubble. The door flies open as Han races out, barely missing the opening door with his head. They've done it. They've finally done it. All Han can think about is his family and about how they've finally done it. Adrenaline rushing and coursing through his veins, he rips away the rubble chunk by chunk, hoping that a miracle has happened.

"Leia! Leia, Chewie, where are you?" Han calls, desperation evident in his voice. Rarely does Han let his guard down and reveal his emotions, but this time is an exception. Han continues to search the rubble for hours, never ceasing to call Leia and Chewie's names. For a long time, he gets no response, and he fears the worst has happened. Suddenly, a flash of dirty white and matted brown give Han hope. He tears away the rubble on top of the two colors, only to discover they are not his family but rather decorations ruined by the rubble. Hopeless, Han sinks to his knees and fights the lump in his throat. He's lost his family and his home. Tears begin welling in his eyes as his face turns red and splotchy. But he doesn't cry. Han Solo never cries.

The sound of a baby crying brings Han back to the nightmare he's living. Forcing himself to stand up, Han tries to locate the source of the cries and starts digging. It takes several more hours, but at long last, he finds the crying the baby. Gently, he picks up the child wrapped in a dark blue blanket and holds it close to his chest. That's when he notices the child's mother, dressed in a ceremonial white robe only a representative would wear and hair done in a bun with four braided loops and one long braid hanging down, sprawled on the ground, majority of her body buried under the rubble.

"Leia," Han whispers mournfully. Then he pulls back the debris and frees Leia. But he dares not move her from where she is for fear of injuries hidden from the naked eye. Immediately, Han calls the nearest medical facility and tells them of the situation; the dispatcher says responders will be there shortly. While he waits, Han continues searching for his best friend and finds him too buried under debris several meters away from Leia and the baby. He can't tell if either Leia or Chewie is alive, so he prepares for the worst and hopes for the best.

The responders soon arrive and transport everyone to the medical facility. There, the medical droids do evaluations as well as actual doctors. When the results of the multiple tests and evaluations come back, they discover Leia has a severe concussion, a broken spine, numerous fractures on both arms, and both legs' bones shattered; she'll have to be transferred to Coruscant where they can better treat her. Meanwhile, Chewie has multiple fractures throughout his body and a severe concussion, but the medical staff can treat him. Han also has them examine the baby, and the results show, thankfully, that the infant suffers from nothing more than some cuts and bruises, which the medical staff clean and bandage. Then several medical emergency transportation droids whisk Han, Leia, and the baby off the Coruscant.

As soon as the ship lands, more medical droids pour out of the facility and rush Leia off to surgery. While waiting for Leia's surgery to end, the baby grows hungry and starts wailing. Unable to feed the baby and having nothing to feed the baby with, Han is unsure of what to do. A human female, a young mother herself, approaches Han and asks if he needs help with the baby. Grateful, Han nods but hesitates to hand over the infant.

"You can trust me," the woman assures Han with a smile. Han sighs and places the baby in the woman's arms. She instantly pulls out a blanket, wraps in around her so that it covers her chest, and holds the child underneath the blanket. The baby stops crying.

"Thank you," Han says quietly.

"It's no trouble. I'm Danica Skywalker, by the way," the woman states nonchalantly, the blanket still wrapped around her. Han asks if she is related to Luke Skywalker, and Danica says that he is her husband. Han almost laughs, but he stops himself. So this is the family he'll be marrying into someday, that is, if Leia survives.

Soon Danica lays a sleeping baby back in Han's arms and leaves without another word. Han decided that he'll need to buy formula for the baby while Leia is in surgery since he certainly can't feed the child and the odds of Danica returning are so little. _If only 3PO were here to tell me the odds,_ Han thinks to himself.

The long wait continues, and Han dozes off several times. The baby continues to sleep soundlessly as well. Suddenly, a sharp pressure on his shoulder awakens Han from his nap. The droid announces Leia's survival of the operation and her current location in the Intensive Care Unit. Then it orders Han to follow it and stalks away at a brisk pace.

Han jumps out of his seat and does all but run to keep up with the droid; it's moving rather quickly for a medical droid. The droid halts abruptly in front of a sealed metal door.

"Representative Leia Organa of Naboo, Room 6713." The droid's metallic voice sounds cold and almost foreboding. Han shoves those feelings aside for the sake of the baby asleep in his arms and for his friend in the room.

The doors slide open as Han approaches, revealing Leia resting on a bed, her hair undone, in a hospital gown, and make up removed; she's covered in wires and patches as well as bandages, and every wire and patch connects to some kind of monitor. The sight is discouraging to Han, but he dons a brave face. Calmly, he settles himself in a chair and watches over Leia. Her location at this moment is recorded in files and droids. If they gain access to that information, she will absolutely die. But he'll do all he can to prevent that.

"Han." The whisper comes an hour later and is inaudible. "Han, wake up." This time the voice is a tad stronger; Han stirs. "Han, I haven't much strength, so wake up and listen carefully." Han's eyes open, but nothing registers, until he hears the cries of the baby.

"You'll sleep through anything, won't you?" Leia, now awake, asks. Han seems a bit dazed until he recognizes that Leia is now awake. "Let me hold the child." Leia reaches tiredly for the baby and snuggles it. Han reaches into his bag for the formula powder he bought while waiting for Leia to get out of surgery. He dumps it in a bottle and adds warm water before mixing it together. Then he walks over to Leia and hands the bottle to her. Leia gently puts the bottle into the crying baby's mouth, and the crying stops. "Have you been feeding the treasure every three hours?" Leia's voice is still weak. Han pauses and nods. Leia raises an eyebrow, and Han assures that he fed the baby every three hours.

Once the baby finishes eating, Leia burps it and starts swinging gently in her arms. While doing so, she sings, her voice rough but soothing. The baby drifts off to sleep to its mother's lullaby.

"Across the stars, across the moons, across the planets my love reaches you. You are loved. You are safe. I will guard you all of your days. Nothing can harm you. It's okay to be scared. Just know you'll be spared. Tomorrow will be here when we least expect it. Daylight will come before we know it. My love . . . reaches beyond the stars, beyond the moons, and beyond the planets . . . we see. My love will stretch across the stars."

Next, Leia motions for Han to step closer to the bed. A pained expression crosses her worn face.

"Go to Luke. He'll protect -" the last word is inaudible, but Han understands. Leia kisses the sleeping baby goodbye and does the same to Han. Then Han takes the baby outside the hospital and hails a speeder cab. The driver asks where Han would like to go, and he replies the Jedi Temple, which is about 32 kilometers away. At first, the driver objects, but she reads the concern on Han's face and agrees to fly him there.

At the Temple, Han is all but welcome. The guards refuse to grant him access without some kind of authorization he doesn't have. Han tries to convince them to let him in and that he needs to see the Grand Master, but the guards tell him that no one sees the Grand Master without proper authorization and prior appointment scheduling.

Han tries calling Luke on his com-link many times, but Luke never answers. He must be in a meeting, Han decides.

About twenty minutes later, Han receives a call on his com-link; it's Luke. Out of spite to the guards, Han puts the com-link on speaker and waits with a smirk for Luke to give him permission to enter. Only, Luke doesn't give him permission. Instead, he tells the guards to please escort Han to "The Fallens' Place," the place where the old Temple had once stood before Order 66 and the Purge brought it down. It is now a memorial to those who died during that time and under the reign of Darth Sidious and Darth Vader. This time the guards don't hesitate to escort Han, and if not for the baby in his arms, probably would have dragged him to The Fallens' Place.

At The Fallens' Place, Luke paces anxiously while he awaits Han's arrival. He has just called a break from the meeting that has been going on for at least a week now. Normally this kind of situation could be resolved quickly, but the person involved is no ordinary person, nor can they find him, which complicates the matter. Finally, Luke gives up and sits down on the ground to meditate on the matter. Perhaps the Force will offer some insight as to what to do. Instead, he gets a vision, a memory from four years ago: the loss of his own son; the memory's triggered by the meeting about a similar event. Despite the pain the memory causes, Luke allows it play out, believing that doing so will aide him now. And then the Force shifts; a life is taken.

"Luke!" Luke opens his eyes to see Han and the guards less than a meter away. Quickly and gracefully, Luke rises to his feet and greets them upon their arrival. The guards return to their stations. Han and Luke discuss the reason Han is on Coruscant.

"I still don't understand, Han," Luke sighs after Han finishes explaining.

"Leia is a representative of Naboo, where we live, in the Galactic Treaty drafting. Someone or some organization opposes the Treaty and is taking out those who do support it. We've been attacked multiple times in the past, but this last time Leia, Chewie, and this little one were at home. Chewie's back on Naboo, and Leia's at the ICU at the hospital about 30 kilometers from here." Luke nods.

"I see. So where do I come in?" This is the part Han had not yet explained.

"Simple. You take the kid and raise it to be a Jedi so it can protect itself."

"Leia is a Jedi too, you know."

"Leia's also attached to over 15 different monitors right now, has shattered both legs, has a severe concussion, and broke her spine protecting the baby. Do you honestly think she is capable of raising a child to be a Jedi?" At this point, Han is shouting at Luke.

"For how long?" Luke asks, his voice calm and soothing.

"As long as you can. With a father named Solo and mother named Organa, this one will need all the training possible." Then Han glances down at his sleeping child and, in a rare moment of true emotion, kisses its forehead before bidding Luke farewell and proceeding to leave with a thanks. He rushes away as fast as he can because he knows what is happening. He is hurting like he's never hurt before, and he doesn't want anyone else to know it or feel it. As he hails a cab and climbs in, he wipes the most miniscule of tears off his face. Not here, not now. He has to be brave for the child he just left in a world he doesn't trust. The door closes, and Han breaks. Forget being strong.

Han is gone. He's just left an infant in Luke's arms with no instruction other than to train her. Decidedly, Luke glances down at the dark blue bundle and pushes it out of the child's face. It's a girl, his two month old niece named Desara, Desara Faith Solo.

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That's the end of the Prologue! Yay? I hope you all enjoyed it, even if it was a bit shorter than I had hoped. On that note, my goal is to make each chapter about 3000-4000 words long. Clearly, I fell short for this one, and there will be other times when I fall short; please be understanding and know that I'm doing what I can. That's all I've got, Butterflies, so stay tuned for Chapter 1! I love you all so much. Don't forget to follow, favorite, and review! Bye!


	2. Chapter 1

I'm back! Who missed me? Nah, I'm just joking, Butterflies. How have you all been? I know the prologue was probably a lot to digest over a short period of time and probably could have been explained over the course of the story, but don't fret. There will be questions left for the story to answer. Also, if you have any questions or comments, feel free to let me know. One final note: even though the story is told from 3rd Person POV, it's limited to Desara, so what she addresses people as is what I refer to them as. I promise it'll make sense when you read it. That's all! Disclaimer: _Star Wars_ belongs to Disney.

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Almost fifteen standard years after being left in Jedi care, Desara has grown into an average teenager, standing 1.625 meters tall with natural brown ombré hair and blue eyes that have a brown edge. But she has grown up in isolation, her only contact having been with her master and his wife before his wife stepped out of Desara's life. Protection is her master's reason for her isolation, and Desara has never doubted him. He is her master, so he must know much more than she, including the best way to keep her safe.

Exhausted but happy, Desara selects the last volume in _The History of the Lightsaber_ series. The screen flashes brightly in the dim Archives and directs Desara to the data card's location. She finds it, inserts it into the reader, and fuels her thirst for knowledge. She's technically supposed to be asleep in her quarters, but Master's not there to stop her.

About a quarter of the way through the second chapter, the door to the Archives opens. Desara, oblivious to her surroundings, doesn't notice anything until a hand lands on her shoulder. Gasping, Desara spins to look at the person who motions for her to be silent. Realizing who the person is, Desara relaxes and then reluctantly hands over her reader. Giving his student a look of "you've been busted," Master accepts the reader and ejects the data card. Then he silently sends Desara back to her quarters and returns to his quarters.

In her quarters, Desara sits on her bed, her mind racing as it fights to keep her awake. She dare not sleep for fear the nightmares will return, but she knows not sleeping and being exhausted during the day will surely give Master a clue that something going on. That's one of the reasons why Desara was in the Archives on her reader; the blue light from the electronic screen would keep her awake thus keeping the nightmares away. Under any normal circumstances, she would have sought Master's advice, but this is no ordinary circumstance, and she wishes to know the Force's will before acting; there is just a small detail hindering Desara: she cannot feel the Force around her most of the time. But she's never breathed a word of this to her master.

Sitting on her knees, Desara breathes deeper and deeper until she enters a deep meditative state. Colors and shapes dance across her eyes and mind. Struggling, she pushes through them until she finds a relatively peaceful moment. A small twinge of a comforting cool blows past her but is gone before she can grasp it; it happens every time. Brows furrowed in frustration, Desara continues breathing and straining to relocate and grasp the coolness from earlier. Once again, it blows past her, but this time she grabs it. Instantly, she is transported to a lovely planet with a durasteel palace surrounded by mountains and a cliff behind the palace. Desara approaches the cliff and looks down. Though she sees only rock, Desara gets the sense that she is supposed to be at the bottom of the cliff. All of a sudden, something shoves Desara over the edge, hurtling her to her doom.

"Master!" Desara exclaims, but she quickly covers her mouth with her hand. Jedi are supposed to be strong and handle their emotions. If she can't even gain control over her fear or her nightmares, what kind of failure Jedi is she? She just hopes her master hadn't heard her outburst. The last thing she wants to happen right now is her master discover her nightmares or her lack of control over them. Now there's no way Desara will sleep tonight.

The sound of footsteps approaching forces Desara to make a quick decision: get in her bed and fake sleeping or stay in her current position and be caught. She decides to fake sleeping, as much as it bothers her to lie to her master. The footsteps grow louder and louder until they are right by the door. Then they pause outside the door before continuing on their way. Desara breathes a near audible sigh of relief and then climbs out of bed. Bored out of her mind but aware that her master is awake and roaming the halls, Desara slides into the refresher to kill time. For a while, she stares into the mirror, not to be vain, but rather to stare into her own eyes and past her outward appearance. Her eyes, just like any other living creature, often give away her emotions, so she has learned to identify some of her feelings this way when they become too complex, deep, or jumbled to determine them by meditation alone. To Desara, emotions are not horrible hindrances; no, to her, they are gifts from the Force designed to enhance one's life, but one needs to find peace with one's emotions lest they rule oneself. She just wishes she weren't the only one who feels that way about emotions.

Desara keeps herself busy for the remainder of the night, careful not to make noise or to accidentally fall asleep and suffer another nightmare. After she finishes "reading" her reflection, Desara wanders aimlessly between her bedroom and her refresher; she's not sure why she's wandering, but it keeps her awake, so she rolls with it. The wandering does not last very long before Desara grows frustrated with herself and resorts to counting everything in sight. This too does not last very long. Desara does a myriad of other activities in an attempt to stay awake and manages to make some last longer than others. One activity that she tries is writing in her datapad. She writes everything that comes to mind, including her nightmares and differing opinions on the Jedi way of life. When she finishes, she sets up as many passcodes on her datapad as possible to ensure Master will have to work to find out what she's written, that is if he ever finds out she wrote anything at all.

Once she finishes writing and setting passcodes, Desara glances at her chrono and notices that it's almost time for her to get up. It's been a long night, but she can't let Master catch on that anything is wrong. Desara pulls herself off her bed and walks into the refresher. She goes through her regular routine and then reenters her bedroom. There, she picks out her outfit for the day: a light tan three-quarter sleeve shirt with a black vest and dark blue pants; next she slips her black boots on and stands. She approaches the mirror, readjusts parts of her outfit as she slips on a belt, grabs her hairbrush, runs it through her hair, and pulls her hair back into a simple braid and makes her way to the dining hall. To any non-Jedi, Desara looks like an average person; that's what Master had in mind when he forbade Desara from wearing Jedi robes or a Padawan braid. His goal is to protect her, and he figured hiding her Padawan identity just in case someone comes looking is the best way to do so.

In the dining hall, Desara sets down her plate consisting of a protein, a fruit, a vegetable, and a grain. Then she grabs a glass of water and sits to eat. It's no surprise that Master is gone, nor is it surprising that he left a task list for Desara at his place. He has been gone most mornings for the past year or so, so Desara is used to these task lists. Silently, she cleans her dishes and reads over the list. First, Master has her running the obstacle course under varying conditions. Next, he has her practice her lightsaber forms with the practice lightsaber. After that, Desara is to practice hand to hand combat (though she's not sure how to do that alone). Following that, he has her reorganize the Archives and push an update. Next, Desara is supposed to clean up around the sanctuary. Afterwards, she needs to practice swimming. Once she's done with that, Desara is supposed to start rebuilding her lightsaber. Desara tenses when she reads that task; she's not sure she wants to attempt to rebuild her lightsaber without Master with her in case another accident happens. Finally, Desara is supposed to meditate. Then she has some free time before lights out. At the bottom of the list, Master wrote,

"And take care of yourself as necessary. Eat and use the refresher; don't get too caught up in the list. I'll be back as soon as I can. ~Master"

Sighing softly, Desara folds the note and slides it into her pocket. She starts in the direction of the obstacle course, knowing it's going to be a disaster.

When she arrives, she pulls out the list to see how Master wants her to run the course first. "Blindfolded," the note says. Desara shakes her head and reaches for the blindfold and the practice lightsaber on the table next to the door. Nervously, Desara clips the lightsaber to her belt and ties the blindfold so that she has to keep her eyes shut. Then she walks over to the start of the course and goes.

Being unable to see is Desara's greatest weakness and her greatest strength on the obstacle course. She fails when trying to maneuver around or over obstacles because she has no idea where obstacles or footholds are, leaving her playing a guessing game. She tries using the Force to guide her, but it fails to help her. Either it misinformed her, or her intuition was wrong, but either way the outcome is Desara falling off the wall she was scaling and landing on top of several trigger tiles. The tiles send small jolts of electricity that individually only stun the person, but hitting multiple at once could cause minor injury. Knowing this, Desara pries herself off the tiles and moves onto a safe one. With her momentum gone, Desara knows she'll have to begin again in order to scale the wall a second time.

Cautiously, Desara makes her way back to the beginning; she swears going back is just as difficult as going forwards. Nonetheless, she walks back to the start and takes a moment to center herself and attempt to get in touch with the Force. For a brief moment, Desara feels the familiar coolness and snatches it. In that moment, it's like Desara knows the location, height, and depth of every aspect of the obstacle course. But she knows that holding onto the coolness or that knowledge will be much harder once she starts moving; because of this, Desara tries to memorize the information the Force provided her with.

Launching herself forward, Desara restarts the course. She feels the coolness of the Force surround her and in her. It guides her through the course and over the wall. Desara leaps downs off the wall and instantly feels the Force telling her to duck. She drops and hears the sound of a laser hitting the durasteel sheet protecting the wall behind her. She whips out the lightsaber and, making sure it's turned horizontally, activates it. Luckily the blade is pointed towards her right hand, meaning she won't have to strain to defend herself, so long as the Force doesn't abandon her. Just as soon as the thought crosses her mind, the coolness vanishes. Years ago, the disappearance of the coolness would have left Desara in a tricky situation, but now she knows how to handle it. The machine firing the lasers is not a quiet one and runs on a pattern; all Desara has to do is listen for the sound of the machine firing and tap into the pattern. Once she hits it, the machine will cease firing.

After being hit several times, Desara gets her rhythm. She deflects shots with the lightsaber and eventually hits the machine, and it stops firing. Sighing a sigh of utter relief, Desara rips off the blindfold and deactivates the lightsaber; the course is over.

Then Desara returns to the start, glances at the task list, and reruns the course four more times, each time with minor changes to her approach. Once she finishes the last run, she makes a note to self to return to the obstacle course if she has some free time before evening meal. She truly wants to be able to complete the course with all five approaches in one run for Master before she turns fifteen, but the odds don't look promising.

Desara glances down at her task list and reads what is next: practice her lightsaber combat forms. Gleefully, Desara makes sure the practice lightsaber is securely clipped to her belt and then races down the hall to practice room. When she bursts through the door, she is greeted by a familiar droid: Z9-Y7, who serves as an instructor when Master is not able to teach Desara.

"Greetings, Padawan Solo," the droid says mechanically. Desara smiles.

"Greetings, Z9. I assume you'll be helping me with my forms." The droid confirms Desara's assumption. Then it asks Desara to activate the practice lightsaber. _Snap-hiss._ Desara rotates the lightsaber from the horizontal position she always activates it from. Immediately, the droid begins going crazy with corrections and tells Desara to deactivate the weapon. Obediently, she presses the button that deactivates the weapon, a confused expression covering her face.

"Padawan Solo, what have I said about igniting your lightsaber?"

"To do so in a manner that _won't_ result in my self-induced, accident impalement." The droid almost smacks its head with its hand. However, it restrains itself.

"I did not mean for you to begin holding it horizontally, Padawan Solo. I meant for you to learn to hold it at an angle vertically without impaling yourself. Let's say the Headmaster had been next to you when you activated your lightsaber like that. He would dead right now." Despite the droid being mechanical, its voice carries a heavy tone of agitation. "Try again."

This time, Desara holds the weapon in her left hand and moves it far enough to the side that accidental impalement would be a difficult task to complete. Then she angles it out at a forty-five degree angle; exhaling out her fears and closing her eyes, she ignites the weapon.

"**STOP!**" Z9 shouts. Instantly, Desara shuts off the lightsaber and clips it back on her belt. She's had all she can take of this. Ten standard years of this kind of training will do that to any padawan. Forcing a smile, Desara asks what went wrong, and is reprimanded by the droid for holding her lightsaber to her side. Again, she tries to do it correctly. This pattern repeats for some while, before Desara tosses the deactivated hilt to the side and curls up in tears. Her life is all about becoming a Jedi and protecting the galaxy as it rebuilds itself and even after that, but how can she do that if Master never lets her leave the sanctuary she dwells in and if she fails to properly execute something as simple as igniting a training lightsaber without putting a life at risk? Tears roll from her eyes and down her cheeks. Z9, unsure of how to react, hovers over to where the hilt lay and picks it up.

"Maybe you need to step away, Padawan Solo," Z9 suggests. Wiping away her tears, Desara agrees; she stands and thanks the droid for her lesson, a habit she's formed over the years at Master's request. He had said it would help with her social skills.

The door closes behind Desara as she checks her chrono. It is time for the midday meal, so she heads off the the dining room. There, she prepares a small plate of a protein, a fruit, vegetable, a grain, and a dairy product before grabbing a glass of water. Had the droids and Master been at the sanctuary, Desara would not have made her own midday meal but would have been discussing matters of training and the galaxy. But Master was not here, nor were most of the few droids. Only Desara and, to her knowledge, Z9 were at the sanctuary, and she hoped it would stay that way.

After cleaning, Desara rushes off to practice hand to hand combat. Upon her arrival, she discovers she'll simply be sparring with Z9. Her shoulders slump in disappointment as she sets herself. This is going to be a _very_ long session.

About two standard hours later, Desara proves herself victorious. The session was undoubtedly difficult seeing how the concept of sparring did not exist after a certain point. In order to win, Desara had to give the fight her all and focus intently. Luckily for her, she had the Force's help for moments of the session, but Desara did most of the work herself. If only lightsaber combat were as straightforward and adaptive as hand to hand. Then maybe she'd be worth something to the Jedi, to her master.

Next on Desara's task list is to reorganize the Archives (meaning collect all the missing datacards and reshelf them) and then push for an update. _Is it really time to update the Archives again? I swear by the Outer Rim that we just updated them,_ Desara finds herself thinking as she continues her search for missing datacards. The list of missing datacards seems endless, but Desara is glad that the sanctuary's Archives are only a fraction of the size of any Temple's Archives; trying to reorganize those would take forever, especially since they have separate datapads for each reference rather than datacards.

There are a several datacards that Desara cannot find that she knows Master was looking at. However, his quarters are off limits unless he invites her in, but Desara also knows the update will fail if even one datacard is misshelved, let alone misplaced. Desara debates with herself before deciding to go retrieve the datacards from Master's quarters. Quickly, she drafts a letter of apology and saves it to an external drive, should she break or move something, before darting off to Master's quarters.

In Master's quarters, Desara is immediately overwhelmed by the complex simplicity of the room. Yes, his quarters are similar if not an exact replica of her own, but his quarters are covered in datacards and holographs of himself, a woman Desara recognizes as Master's wife, and a child. In some of the holographs, the child is young, no older than ten from what Desara can tell, but in others the child is an infant. Also some of the holographs are of poorer quality than others, giving Desara the idea that some holographs are older than others. What is weird is that the holographs of the young child look older than those of the infant.

Desara shakes her head at herself. "Look at me, getting distracted by some holographs instead of getting the datacards and leaving. Ah-ha! I found the last one," she exclaims as she picks up the last datacard and drops in her pocket. Then she plugs the external drive with the apology note into the keypad on the wall next to the door. Desara returns to the Archives, replaces the datacards, and pushes for the update. It begins, so she leaves it to run its course.

With the update running, Desara decides to start cleaning up around the sanctuary. There isn't much to clean up since only Desara, Master, and a few droids live in the sanctuary. Desara's bed needs to be made, and there are a few loose items scattered about the sanctuary, but nothing Desara can't do in a matter of minutes. Once she's done with that, she sweeps the floors, cleans up any dishes still dirty, drops the trash in the incinerator, and then sends her dirty clothes down the laundry chute. Desara finishes cleaning the sanctuary and takes another look at the task list Master left for her.

"Swimming? Do I really have to practice swimming? Oh well, I might as well go change." Desara returns to her quarters and changes into a swimsuit. Then she heads off to the pool where she swims for approximately an hour. Then she dries off and goes back to her quarters to change back into her regular clothes. Next, Desara picks up the remnants of her destroyed lightsaber's hilt and carries it out onto the balcony to the rear of the sanctuary. There, she plops down awkwardly on the ground and sits with the soles of her feet together and the metal-and-wire clump in front of her. This is either pass or fail.

Intently, Desara focuses her energy on the Force and imagines that it is picking up the clump and lifting it in the air. Slowly, the wires untangle themselves, and the metal sorts itself into a pile. From her pocket, Desara draws out a small crystal and places it reverently on the ground with the wires and metal. Next Desara releases the Force and begins sorting through the wires for what is salvageable and what is not. When she finishes with the wires, she moves on to the metal. By the time she finishes, everything has been sorted into piles: usable and unusable.

Reaching for her tools, Desara begins preparing her mind for the challenge ahead of her. Lightsabers are not her strong suit, and all of her lightsaber "prototypes" have been utter failures so far. Last time, she mangled the hilt so badly that even Master couldn't figure out how to save it; to this day, Desara has no idea how she did such a thing.

_Hitting the floor with a dull thud, the captive stares up at the cloaked figure. The figure dismisses the one who brought the captive before the cloaked figure before using the Force to pick the captive up off the ground and setting xe on xe's knees. The cloaked figure talks for some time, though xi's voice is inaudible; when xi concludes xi's monologue, the cloak comes flying off in a magnificent swirl of white. The now formerly cloaked figured motions grandly with xi's arms, and the captive turns xe's head to look. A stiffness embraces the captive and keeps xe in its hold. Tears silently drip off the face of the captive, and the pain is unbearable. It feels as if something the captive has never known but yearned to know has just been ripped away from xe, forever._

* * *

I apologize for the very, very long chapter, Butterflies, and I apologize for what is perhaps the most awkward way to end a chapter of all time. Please forgive me, and I assure that I am normally a much better writer than this. I don't know what has gotten into me, but I'm sure everything will be all right by the next chapter. Thank you all for reading (and putting up such an awful chapter). Don't forget to follow, favorite, or review! I love you all, and I'll post the next chapter next week! Bye, Butterflies!


	3. Chapter 2

Welcome back, Butterflies! I hope you all are doing well, and I hope you all enjoyed last chapter. This is an exciting chapter, at least for me it is; you all might think otherwise. But I'm not saying a word about what happens. That's all I've got to say right now, so let's get rolling.

Disclaimer: _Star Wars_ belongs to Disney.

* * *

Shaking the vision from her mind, Desara goes back to work on her lightsaber. If she cannot build one and make it work, she will not be knighted, and she'll probably never leave the sanctuary. The very prospect of never leaving the sanctuary despairs Desara and gives her motivation to make the lightsaber work.

With the help of the Force, Desara puts the final touches on her lightsaber and seals it. With a deep breath, Desara holds the lightsaber horizontally out in front of her and presses the button. Nothing happens. Desara presses it again, starting to worry. Again, nothing happens. Once more, Desara hits the switch with her thumb; once more nothing happens. Defeated, Desara drops her hilt on the ground. It busts open, ejecting the crystal with a POP! and shattering it. Desara bangs her head on the door frame.

"There goes number nine. If Master finds out I broke another crystal, he's going to to have a Wookie," Desara groans. Surely she is not the only Padawan who struggles to construct a lightsaber. If she were not so isolated, perhaps she would know or have someone to turn to for help. Alas, she is so isolated and has to do this alone.

Thoughtfully, Desara collects the shards of crystal and the ruined hilt; she recalls the journey Master took her on in order to collect the crystals. The journey itself was not long, for the crystal cave is within speeder distance of the sanctuary, but the trials that faced her were what made it hard. Afterwards, Master had told Desara she would be knighted if she could construct her lightsaber. To Desara, being knighted means leaving the sanctuary and exploring the galaxy. It means freedom she's never had before. But those hopes and dreams will never come true if she cannot build a lightsaber. _Maybe I'm not meant to be a Jedi. Maybe the Jedi are better off without me,_ Desara admits painfully to herself as she continues to clean up the mess she made.

_"You pathetic fool! Look at yourself! And they call you special! They say you will do great things, but take a look around. Tell me who is kneeling submissively before whom!" the captor proclaims loudly to the captive in dark robes who is kneeling on the floor._

A gasp escapes from Desara's mouth before she even realizes she is gasping. The captor and captive in this vision were the same ones from her vision only minutes before. Something must be going on in the Force, Desara concludes, because her nightmares and these visions happening at the same time is just too coincidental to be a coincident. However, Master has said nothing about a change in the Force; perhaps Desara has just lost her mind.

"I should probably go inside to do this. Something doesn't feel right," Desara whispers to herself. Then she scoops up what remains of her lightsaber that was not already in her arms and goes inside. Instantly, the security of the sanctuary eases Desara, and she heads off to the Archives to see if any of the datacards have tips or instructions that might save Desara her last crystal and earn her her freedom. A few fruitless hours later, Desara calls it quits on her lightsaber, promising herself that she will get Master to help her with it upon his return. Then she checks her list and her chrono; it is time for the evening meal, so Desara goes to that and after that returns to her quarters to mediate.

Desara is so deep in meditation that she does not notice Master's presence until he telepathically speaks to her. It startles her at first, as it usually does, but it no longer ends her meditation like it used to.

_"You are troubled, Padawan. It is your lightsaber, is it not?"_ Master asks through the Force. Desara opens her eyes, thus ending her meditation. Giving herself a moment to adjust to being back in reality, Desara waits before responding.

"Yes, Master," she speaks. "I cannot assemble a hilt, and I worry about what that says of my Force skills."

"Desara, I'm sorry about your struggle, but there is nothing more I can do for you; the plans are as simplified as possible."

"I know, Master."

"May I see the hilt and the crystal?"

"Yes, Master," Desara sighs. She stands, bows reverently to Master, approaches a box she keeps beside her bed, and removes the hilt and bag holding the shattered crystal. Then she kneels beside Master and shows the remains to him. Master sighs disappointedly. "I'm sorry, Master, for failing you."

"No, Desara. I apologize for failing you. My absence is doing more than harm than good. I am failing to fulfill my half of the Promise."

Tentatively, Desara reaches out to place a hand on Master's shoulder. "Master, you have protected me, taught me, and guided me. I think you've fulfilled your half of the Promise." Master smiles thankfully at Desara and asks if she would like to work on her lightsaber before her free time begins. Desara gratefully agrees.

The metal clanks to the floor as the hilt disassembles. Thankfully, though, the new crystal does not shatter. Desara growls exasperatedly. Why can she not do this?! Master sends calming energy into the Force, and Desara relaxes a little. Then Master tells his padawan not to give up and that she needs to believe the Force will bind the parts together. Taking a deep and cleansing breath, Desara tries once more and lifts the pieces off the floor using the Force. Master smiles contently at the sight. The pride in watching his padawans construct their lightsabers never goes away, but Master is careful to keep his pride in check. At any time, any of his padawans, past, present, or future, could turn to the Dark Side and use the very weapon they built under his care against him. It would not be the first time something like that happened.

"Master, I think I've done it. Would you like to check it?" Desara's question draws Master back from his thoughts. Happily, Master accepts the lightsaber and examines it before giving it back to Desara with his approval. Sweat beading up on her forehead and hands, and butterflies in her stomach, Desara holds her newly completed lightsaber out horizontally in front of her. Then she closes her eyes and presses the button, ready and anxious to know what kind of Jedi she will become. _Snap-hiss!_ Desara opens her eyes, and tears well up in her eyes. Her blade is clear iridescent. Her blade tells her nothing about the kind of Jedi she will be based on her personality; she is not diplomatic, nor aggressive, nor morally ambiguous, nor anything else. She is nothing.

"Master, something is wrong. This is supposed to be when the color of my blade tells me what kind of Jedi I will become. Does no color mean I will not become a Jedi?" Master can hear the lump in Desara's throat as she struggles to keep from crying.

"Go ahead and release your emotions, Padawan. There is no one here to judge you," Master replies comfortingly. Almost immediately, Desara allows the tears to roll down her face, but she does not make a sound. Then she breathes deeply and releases the pain with each exhale. Once she has calmed down, Desara apologizes to Master, who has since begun an examination of his padawan's lightsaber. Master tells her to think nothing of it as he deactivates the weapon and hands it back to Desara. He glances down at his chrono. "Your free time to get ready for bed has begun. I will leave you now, but, Desara, don't let this get you down. There's a reason for all of this. Just trust the Force." Then Master tells Desara good night and leaves her to wind down.

Silently and solemnly, Desara picks out her night clothes and steps into the refresher to clean herself. After that, she does her nightly meditations before laying down on her bed. But, she dare not sleep. Something is definitely amiss in the Force, whether or not Master can sense it, and it is deeply affecting Desara. Yet, she has to sleep, for this is the fourth night she will not have slept; not sleeping will surely do her in. How Master has not figured out her secret, Desara has not yet figured out.

The alarm on the chrono awakens Desara. Wait, awakens?! She actually got some sleep! Then Desara rubs the sleep from her eyes and finds herself staring at her lightsaber hilt; she is reminded of last night's events. The memory of the clear iridescent blade dismays Desara, but she pulls herself together and starts getting ready for the day.

At the table in the dining hall, Desara is shocked to find Master sitting quietly at the head of the table. Reverently, she drops to her right knee and lingers there for a moment before rising. Then she fixes a plate and sits down at the table. Pleasantly, Master tells Desara good morning and engages in a friendly conversation with her. All of a sudden, he drops a thermal detonator shell on her:

"Today, you begin the Trials." Desara practically chokes.

"Surely you're joking, Master. I'm nowhere near the level required of a padawan seeking to complete the Trials."

"Padawan, do I joke with you about such serious matters?"

Bowing her head slightly in shame, Desara replies, "No, Master. Shall I go pack up my belongings and then report back here?" Master nods and excuses himself. Alone, Desara finishes her morning meal and returns to her quarters to pack up. She never thought this day would come, and she is sad it has; she has to say goodbye to the only home she has ever known. If she fails, she could die or be returned to the sanctuary in disgrace. Suddenly, Desara is not so sure Master knows what he is doing.

Back at the dining hall, Desara waits nervously for Master to return. Now she is thankful for the rest she got last night, though she wonders why no nightmares plagued her like the past few nights. Breaking her thoughts, Master glides into the room in a whirl of Jedi robes. Desara drops to her knee exactly where she is and rises to speak with her master after a moment.

"I trust you got plenty of rest last night, Padawan."

"Yes, Master. Thank you." Then Desara notices the almost cheeky smile on Master's face. "Master, did you Force-suggest me into sleeping?" Master looks off the left.

"Maybe, Padawan, but I did it to help you." Desara smiles and thanks Master. It is nice having this time filled with lighthearted conversation when both master and padawan know the intense tests coming up. Finally, Master tells Desara that it is time for her to leave and that she may take the smaller ship in the hangar. Then Master hands his padawan two lightsaber hilts. Desara looks at Master and then the hilts unsurely.

"Master, is this really necessary?" Master nods. "Don't you need one?" In response, Master pulls back his outer robe to reveal his personal lightsaber.

"I think I'm covered. Desara, these were the lightsabers of two of the most famous Jedi ever. They helped me, and I'm positive they'll help you." Desara thanks Master and starts to race off. However, she stops short, kneels in respect, then stands, and hugs Master.

"Thank you, Master, for everything." Master returns to hug and then sends his padawan on her way.

In the ship, Desara carefully studies the controls, gauges, and meters. Everything seems to be in working order, but she still runs a few tests to confirm what she is reading. The results are perfect, so Desara begins to process to take off. It goes relatively well considering Desara's only flying lessons were in a simulator rather than an actual ship. With a short, sad glance back, Desara is off into the galaxy for the first time since she was an infant. The endless space intimidates Desara and overwhelms her; she has no idea where to go or what to do.

As if he read her mind, a holo-transmission of Master suddenly comes through on Desara's com-link. Master tells Desara that the Trials are very personal tests and that she will have to find them for herself. Master's words discourage Desara, but he reminds her to keep faith in the Force, after all her middle name is Faith. She bows her head respectfully as the transmission fades out. Of course she has to find the Trials herself. It would far too easy to just stick her in a room and do the Trials there. Desara shakes her head annoyedly.

"Oh well," she sighs, "I might as well try to figure out where the heck the Trials are."

_Clear iridescence dances from one to another. Both look so similar, yet they are total opposites. One is a defender of the weak and a bringer of justice; the other is a wielder of darkness, a master of deception and death. Yet, if color equates personality, what does that say about the two dancing as they oppose each other? Surely, they are not one in the same._

"I give up! I've had it with these blasted visions! Why can't they go bother someone else for a few millennia?!" Desara's exasperated cries draw the attention of droid in the back of the cockpit. When the droid, an older model protocol droid from the looks of it, asks if she is all right, Desara shrieks and practically leaps through the window.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Miss. I didn't mean to frighten you," the droid says.

"It's okay. I'm fine, just a little on edge today. I'm Desara by the way." Desara, having turned around in her seat to face the droid that nearly sent her to her doom, bows slightly, for she knows no other way to greet others. The droid introduces itself and offers its services on her voyage; pleased, Desara thanks the droid but tells it that she is all right for now and that she will call when she needs it. Then the droid disappears into the back of the ship and leaves the teenager alone in the cockpit.

Alone, Desara focuses on the space ahead of her. There is nothing coming, so she sets the ship to autopilot. Then she takes a few deep breaths and tries to use the Force to tell her where to go. She gets nothing from it, and it frustrates her. Suddenly, as if without warning, Desara feels a pit in her stomach as her muscles tighten. Sweat forms all over her body, and her heart races at a kilometer a second, with her thoughts moving just as quickly. An intense feeling she has heard Master call fear engulfs Desara, and she starts shaking nearly uncontrollably. She starts crying. _My Force, I'm dying. I'm dying._ All Desara's mind can think of is the fact that she is dying, yet it thinks of a myriad of other thoughts as well. She cannot breathe, so she starts hyperventilating. However, almost as soon the symptoms and reactions start, they are gone, leaving Desara in their wake to figure out what just happened to her.

Shaking, Desara takes several deep and cleansing breaths before attempting to learn where the Force wants her to go for her Trials. This time, she gets another strange feeling, but it is not like what she experienced. In fact, she does not even know how to describe it other than as "right." She just wishes she could trust this feeling, but something is holding her back. Perhaps it is fear of what is to come, or perhaps it is her mind simply trying to trip itself up.

The ship is still on auto-pilot, but it is just resting in its current position. Desara has since recovered from the incident she suffered through earlier, but she does not know where she is supposed to go. Her instinct is telling her to look at history, but Desara could not trust her instinct any less. Besides, she has no idea what her instinct means by "look at history."

Recognizing her growing frustration, Desara stops thinking about the Trials and her lack of trust and instead turns her mind to recalling every inch of the sanctuary. She does so with ease, but she does it over and over as she tries to recall more and more details each time. On her fourth time doing this, when she takes her mind to Master's quarters, she discovers something she had never noticed before. Master usually keeps his lightsabers, his personal one and the few he has saved from his younger days, hanging on the wall next to his bed. What Desara notices is a small table with one of the older holographs with his family in it, has a broken lightsaber hilt on it; the hilt doesn't look like an unfinished hilt. No, it looks like a hilt that had once been a fine weapon and that had been destroyed by someone crushing it. _Why would Master keep that old thing? More importantly, whose is it?_ Desara wonders, but she knows she will probably not get an answer.

It has been a while since Desara got worked up, and she feels that she is ready to try and locate the Trials. She takes several deep breaths and lowers herself into a deep mediation. She reaches for and eventually finds the coolness she has come to identify as the Force. Once she has it, she focuses on the Trials and merges that thought with the Force. Instantly, an image enters her mind. The image is obscure, and she is unable to identify who or what is in the picture, yet something audibly tells her that this image will guide her to where the Trials are. Desara eases out of her mediation. Though she has never seen the people in the image before, she knows who they are.

"My family."

* * *

Remember how last chapter I promised to make this chapter better? Well, I lied. This chapter was probably worse than the last chapter. Please understand and believe me when I say that I am doing the best I can to produce good quality works. I hope this week's chapter wasn't too bad, and I hope you all will continue reading this story. Your views mean so much to me. I love you all, Butterflies, so very much! You all mean so much to me! Don't forget to follow, favorite, and review!


	4. Chapter 3

Hey, Butterflies! I'm back with Chapter 3. Sorry this chapter is so late. Please know that I am moving very soon, and I am über-stressed right now. But that is off topic. This chapter is where some interesting stuff actually happens, so maybe I can win your faith back. That is all I have for you all today.

Disclaimer: _Star Wars_ belongs to Disney.

* * *

After her shocking revelation, Desara calls in the protocol droid and asks for help sending a transmission to Master. The two finally get a transmission sent to Master after much confusion. Master sounds less than excited to hear from Desara.

"Desara, you know the point of the Trials is to test your training. I can't be answering every question you have."

"Yes, Master." Desara bows her head. "But, Master, I've already gotten all the answers the Force is going to give me; I just need to know a little more."

"What is that, Padawan?"

"What do you know about my family?" Master tenses and uncrosses his arms. "Do you know something, Master?"

With a sigh, Master nods. "Yes, Desara, I do know something, actually a lot." Desara pulls back a slight bit. "It was almost fifteen years ago on Coruscant. Your mother was a representative of your homeworld in the drafting of the Galactic Treaty, and your father was a successful business man." Master pauses. "You have a question, don't you, Padawan?"

"Yes, Master, I do. I have two really. One, what is my homeworld? Two, the Galactic Treaty? As in the Treaty that was never completed because all the representatives mysteriously died or pulled out?" Master nods.

"To answer your first question, I'm afraid I don't know your homeworld. And your second: yes, that treaty." Desara practically bangs her head on the controls. Great, her mother is probably dead. "Your father's best friend and your godfather worked along side your father in business and also helped care for you.

The day you were brought to the Temple was a chaotic day. A convicted murderer had escaped from prison, there was a high risk of rogue Jedi, and the Officers were going nuts over trying to keep peace and protect the representatives. The Officers had taken a break from their endless meetings, and the Headmaster at the time, Luke Skywalker, had gone for a walk. He came back, tears streaking down his face and holding you. He refused to tell anyone anything and immediately called all the masters into his quarters and asked that one of us be responsible for you. I volunteered, and Headmaster Skywalker dismissed the other masters. Then he told me that you would need extra protection and told me about your family without using any names. When I asked for permission to take you to a sanctuary on Maldofy, he granted me permission and sent us off. That's all I know, Desara."

"Thank you, Master. For taking me in and for telling me."

"You're quite welcome, my child. I'm sorry I don't know anymore, but the astromech droid on board with you might be able to help."

"How, Master?"

"Headmaster Skywalker had an astromech droid that was starting to malfunction, so he sent it in for extensive repairs. Before he did that, though, he made a copy of everything on that droid's memory and gave the copy to me. He said that if the repairs failed to save his droid that I was to give him the copy. Fortunately, the droid was repaired, but Headmaster Skywalker let me keep the copy, just in case."

"So you put it in your astromech droid for safe keeping, Master?" Master nods. "What, if I may ask, was in that copy that might help me, Master?"

"A hologram of your mother when she nineteen standard years old." Desara's eyes widen in awe. "And, she gives vital clues as to who she is, though she doesn't introduce herself."

"Thank you, Master!" Desara's voice overflows with glee. Master laughs kindly.

"You're welcome, Padawan." Master's com-link goes off in the background. "I've got to take that, Desara. Remember what I've taught you, and whatever you do DON'T GET KILLED. This is the last time I can help you. May the Force be with you."

"And with you, Master." The transmission fades out, so Desara turns to the protocol droid. "You would you mind getting the astromech droid?" The protocol droid hurries out of the cockpit; Desara takes a moment to breathe. Suddenly, the protocol droid returns with Master's astromech droid. Desara introduces herself and asks the astromech droid if it will play the message. It tweets and begins playing the message.

After the message finishes, Desara blinks a few times as she tries to think of what information is vital to her search. Alderaan, the Clone Wars, her mother's father, the Rebellion. Something clicks in Desara's mind. Instantly, she whips out her datapad Master had given her when she turned ten and begins searching. Then it dawns on her: she needs a date in order to get the proper information. She asks the astromech droid if the message has a date, and it tells her the date. Smiling, Desara cross references the information she gathered with the date and discovers her mother's father was Bail Organa, the king and former senator of Alderaan at the time it was destroyed. That means that her mother was a princess. Wow. That was unexpected.

Next, Desara researches Bail Organa and finds out he and his wife adopted a baby girl shortly after the former Galactic Empire rose to power. That baby girl was named Leia, and Leia grew up to fight in the Rebel Alliance until the fall of the Empire. More information of Leia tells Desara that she later moved to Naboo. There is no other information on Desara's mother out there. Apparently, Desara does not exist in any records in the galaxy, nor does her father.

Desara, now clearly frustrated at the lack of information, turns to the astromech droid. "You have all the data from Headmaster Skywalker's droid; tell me, is my father in any of the data?" The droid beeps and tweets loudly. "What do you mean you don't know?!" The droid tweets and rattles. "So let me get this straight: you have all the data from Headmaster Skywalker's droid, but you have no idea who each person is?" Again, the droid beeps. "Well aren't you helpful?" Desara sneers. The droid screeches loudly before rolling out of the cockpit.

"Padawan Solo, might I suggest you apologize to-"

"No. I'm not apologizing to it."

The protocol droid huffs. "Very well then, Padawan Solo." Then it too leaves the cockpit. Alone, Desara leans back in her seat and rests the back of her head against the back of her seat. Naboo. How far away is Naboo? What if the Trials are not there? Desara's poor mind races with thoughts like those. She does not want to fail Master after all that he has done for her, but she has no clue where Naboo is, and she does not feel like apologizing. Desara decides to search for Naboo in the ship's GPS- Galactic Positioning System- and sends the coordinates to the ship's navigation system. Then she's off.

Desara's first experience with hyperspace is anything but a pleasant one. She does not expect to be tossed out of her seat and thrown on the floor by the pure acceleration of the ship. She supposes that she deserved that for being so rude to the two droids and for not strapping herself in her seat. However, once she gets herself back in her seat, Desara enjoys looking out the cockpit window and watching the tunnel of light around her. It is rather beautiful.

Just as soon as Desara gets used to hyperspace, she arrives above Naboo. Wow. She really had not expected to arrive so soon. Taking a long and deep breath, Desara walks through how to land the ship before it begins descending. Once the ship is safely on the ground, Desara checks to make sure she has her lightsaber and Master's lightsabers before grabbing and donning the pouch she always carries and slipping the lightsabers in it. Then she tells the droids to come with her; they make their way to the center of the nearest town. On their way, Desara spies a sign welcoming them to the city of Theed, the capital city of Naboo.

"Padawan Solo, where are we going?"

"Shush! Don't call me that here! Master doesn't want anyone to know what I am!" Desara hisses quietly to the rather loud protocol droid. The droid apologizes and promises it will not make the mistake ever again. Desara blows a loose strand of hair out of her face and announces that they are going into town and finding someone who can help her in her search. No one says a word as they work their way into the crowded capital city.

Once in the noisy and crowded center of Theed, Desara begins her search for someone who can help her or for the Naboo Archives, or what ever it is they are called. Too focused on her search, Desara bumps into a myriad of people, human and other species alike. Everyone she bumps into takes offense, but Desara is too much in a daze to notice or apologize. She keeps pushing her way through the throng, blocking out the cadence of countless voices and noises around her.

"Padawan Solo!" The unmistakable cry slices through the noise, bringing everything to a dead standstill; no one dares make a noise. Desara turns on her heel and stares at the protocol droid over three meters away from her. "Padawan Solo, thank the Maker you're okay. We were separated back there and -" The deathly stare meeting its eyes shuts the droid up mid-sentence. Coldly, Desara stalks up to the droids.

"Come with me." The droids follow behind Desara as she leaves the frozen town square, people slowly thawing in their wake. _I wonder why they all froze._ With the droids trailing behind her, Desara allows herself time to lose herself in thought. However, that time does not last long because someone has grabbed Desara and is demanding information.

"You are 'Padawan Solo' without a doubt," the person says while gripping Desara firmly.

"So what if I am?"

"Her Majesty Queen René Skoir would love to meet you." Desara stops resisting the person's grip and gives the person a confused look. She asks why the Queen would want to see her. "Let's go," the person commands, leaving Desara's question unanswered.

At the Royal Palace, the person brings Desara to the throne room. Unsure of what to do, Desara observes the person bow before the Queen and them kiss her hand when she extends it. When Desara is introduced, she fumbles a bow, at which the Queen scoffs harshly.

"That's not nice," Desara says. Everyone in the throne room gasps collectively. Desara does not understand everyone's horror.

"How dare you speak to me in such a manner! I am the Queen!" The Queen's face turns blood red underneath her white make-up. "Show me respect, peasant!"

"I'm aware you are the Queen, Your Majesty, but that is all the more reason for you to be a kind and compassionate person. Oh, and I'm not a p-"

"Just shut up already!" Queen Skoir's remark catches everyone off guard. Calmly, Queen Skoir speaks to Desara, though scorn and disgust burn through her voice. "My beloved Captain of the Royal Guard here tells me you are Padawan Solo. Is that true?" Desara nods, wary of Queen Skoir's sudden pleasantness. "Tell me, then, is 'Padawan' a title or a name?"

"A title, Your Majesty." Queen Skoir nods.

"So what is your real name? What is it that padawans do?"

"Well, Your Majesty, my name is Desara Faith Solo, and a padawan is an older student of the Jedi Order."

"A middle name?" The Queen asks, utterly disregarding Desara's second answer. "That's usually done on Naboo. And the Jedi Order, you say? How interesting. What brings you to Naboo?"

"I'm in search of the Trials in order to become a Jedi Knight. The Force led me here."

"Why in the name of Naboo would your pathetic Trials be here? Your kind is unwelcome here, and I suggest you leave, and we can all forget this ever happened."

Desara shakes her head. "No. The Trials are here, and I intend to find them. And for the record, Your Majesty, you are being quite rude, and it is a shame that such a fair system will go to waste if you continue to rule." Suddenly, Desara feels a shift in the Force and someone's voice telling her gently to stop talking. Queen Skoir starts shrieking and demanding Desara be executed immediately.

"My lady, if I may-" one handmaiden clad in a rose red dress, head scarf, and veil cuts in gently. It is the same voice that told her to stop talking.

"Silence, Ré." Queen Skoir continues shouting.

"My lady, please." Again the Queen cuts her off. For a third time, the handmaiden called Ré speaks. "My lady, let me explain. She is half Gungan, and she clearly was not raised in the Naboo system. She was probably raised in near isolation." What?! Desara is half Gungan?! Then Desara realizes she has no idea what a Gungan is. Even Queen Skoir has a shocked expression. She stutters as she orders Desara and Ré be detained. Ré willingly goes, but Desara fights; Desara gives in when she hears Ré's voice telling her to stop.

In the dungeons, Desara paces anxiously while Ré sits calmly in a meditative position. It is funny how the future Jedi is filled with fear while a simple handmaiden meditates peacefully. Desara wonders how Ré can do that when she knows what Queen Skoir is planning for them. If only Desara could be as calm and peaceful as her cellmate. Maybe she should ask her about how she keeps her wits about her.

"Uh, Handmaiden Ré, how are you that calm?" Desara asks nervously.

"Please, Padawan Solo, call me just Ré. And I am this calm because I trust the Force will do what it wants, and I have made peace with the fact though I might change some things, the Force is ultimately in control and what it wants is bound to happen one way or another." Ré's gentle voice soothes Desara's mind, and her words ease Desara's fears. Then Desara thanks Ré for helping her in the throne room; in response Ré says it her responsibility to defend those who cannot. An idea strikes Desara. She asks Ré if she is or once was a Jedi. Ré shushes her and tells her that the Jedi are banned from Naboo and have been since before the Galactic Empire rose to power. Then Ré smiles and says her school teacher secretly taught all the Force sensitives how to use the Force for some things and how to control their emotions. Ré concludes that in retrospect, her school teacher must have been a former Jedi.

"Ré, may I ask you another question?" Ré chuckles and says jokingly that Desara just did. At first Desara does not understand Ré's comment, but when Ré clarifies what she means, Desara understands. She clearly has a lot left to learn about people. She is starting to wonder if maybe Master's decision to raise her away from other people was the best decision. It appears to have done a lot of harm to her social skills, even if it did keep her safe. But safe from what?

"Am I really half Gungan?" Desara asks. Ré's hand flies to her mouth in horror. Quickly, she explains that she only said that so the Queen would have mercy on her. Desara nods and asks if Ré knows anything about her family. To answer her question, Ré replies yes. She lived next door to Desara's family but was only three when the Desara's home was bombed and destroyed; she never knew anyone had survived until Desara arrived. When Desara asks about her mother, Ré says that all she knows is that Desara's mother was the Naboo representative in the Galactic Treaty drafting until the Treaty was called off and Desara's mother supposedly died. Desara bangs her head on the cell wall as she begins weeping. Fear settles in her heart and anger, her bones; she will never find the Trials, her family, or answers. Master threw her out to die like the rest of her family. He never wanted her. He never cared about her. He never _loved_ her.

* * *

I apologize for making this chapter shorter than the others, but a lot of stuff happens in this chapter, and my motto is "quality over quantity." I hope you all enjoyed the chapter, and I will post Chapter 4 as soon as I can. I love you all so much! Don't forget to follow, favorite, and review!


	5. Chapter 4

Welcome back, Butterflies! I'm so happy that you all came back to read this chapter. I honestly don't know what I would do if you all did not come back and keep reading. You all mean so much to me, and I sincerely apologize for every time I have let you down. This move has been difficult, and I greatly appreciate you all waiting patiently for me to get back on my schedule. I hope you all enjoyed the last chapter, and I hope you all enjoy this one. That's all I've for for now.  
Disclaimer: Star Wars belongs to Disney.

Desara awakes to find that Ré covered her while she slept with the outermost cloak of her dress and made a makeshift pillow out of her folded up veil. Ré has done so much for Desara despite only meeting her less than a day ago. When Ré sees Desara is awake, she smiles, her brown eyes sparkling, and smooths Desara's wild hair. Then she pauses, swishes her lips off to the side, and makes a studious face. Next, she removes the hair tie holding Desara's braid together and undoes it; as she twists the two framing sections of hair, Ré explains that Desara's braid did not frame her face well. After twisting the framing sections, Ré re-braids Desara's hair and ties it off. Ré says it looks much better with Desara's face shape. Desara thanks Ré and asks how Ré knew that her braid did not suit her face shape and how to fix it. Ré replies that it is her job to do the Queen's hair, another reason why Queen Skoir would not dare to detain her for long. Hearing that gives Desara some hope but not much. Still, some hope is better than no hope, right?  
Desara notices Ré staring at her, as if she is studying her intently; this makes Desara squirm and fidget uncomfortably. When Ré realizes that Desara saw her, she looks away and apologizes.  
"You look familiar is all," Ré explains. Desara nods. "I just can't figure out whom you look like." Desara blushes slightly as a smile crosses her face; she does not know why she is blushing or smiling. Down the hall, the heavy door to the dungeons slides open and slams shut. Quickly, Ré throws her veil back on and wraps the cloak around herself before softly sitting down on her heels on the floor. Desara observes in silent awe of Ré's speed. All of a sudden, the cell door opens as a red ray shield takes its place. A guard is on the other side; he disables the ray shield.  
"Handmaiden Ré Mohv, Her Majesty demands your presence." Ré rises and curtsies politely to the guard before bidding Desara farewell. After that, the guard locks the cell again, and the guard and the handmaiden disappear.  
Alone, Desara lies down on the floor where Ré just was and closes her eyes. She drifts off to sleep; as she drifts, a coolness wraps around her and cradles her.  
"This is getting out of hand, Desara!"  
"What do you want me to do, Uncle? I'm doing everything I can, but it's not working. The Force has forsaken me. That is, if it was ever with me."  
"Don't ever say that, Desara! If not for the Force, you wouldn't even be here!"  
"Maybe I don't want to be here!" There is a long pause between Desara and her uncle. "I'm sorry they died. I had never meant for it to happen." The remorse is evident in Desara's voice.  
"I can't forgive you, Desara. This is the last straw." No one says anything for several minutes. Finally, Desara breaks the silence.  
"Uncle, which Force do we use?"  
"I use the Light Side. Who knows what you use."  
Breathing hard, Desara bolts upright. What in the galaxy was that? She has an uncle? How did that not come up in her research?! Hundreds of more questions flood her mind. She cannot concentrate; her world is spinning faster and faster as everything caves in on her. How much of her life does she actually know? About that time, the cell door opens, and Ré reenters, this time wearing an elaborate black velvet dress with corresponding headscarf and cloak.  
Ré hurries over to Desara, her face creased with worry. She grabs Desara's hands and implores her with her eyes.  
"Tell me, Desara, have you had any luck with finding the Trials?" Desperation resounds in Ré's voice. Desara shakes her head. "I might be able to guide you into a deep enough meditation to extract answers from the Force." Although she is apprehensive, Desara accepts Ré's offer to help. The two kneel on the floor; the student and the handmaiden breathe deeply as the handmaiden guides the student into an incredibly deep meditative state, a state so deep the student has never gone into it before.  
In Desara's mind, there is a long hallway and a door at the end. Ré tells to Desara to think of meditation as a building and her mind as a lift; she needs to ride the lift down to the lowest level of the building in order to achieve this level of meditation. The lift is slow, but soon Desara is where she needs to be. This hallway is much darker than the others with only a few doors on it; Desara asks Ré what those doors are, and Ré replies that they are the entrances to others' minds who are also at this level of meditation.  
"See, Desara. Now I am in your mind." Sure enough, an image of Ré appears in Desara's mind's eye along with the image of herself. Carefully, Ré guides Desara down the hallway until they are at the last door on the left. Ré takes Desara's hand. "Only you can go in there. I'm going to withdraw from your mind, but I'll be able to tell when you're done. May the Force be with you." With that, Ré vanishes, leaving Desara alone outside the door. Now completely alone in this level of meditation, Desara feels her heart pounding in her throat. Alone. Such a strong word, as Desara slowly realizes; it is a feeling and a state of being. It is terrifying in its own sense, even for one who fears nothing. Even the strongest of people begin breaking when alone. Alone means by oneself, which also means without help, to Desara.  
Desara's physical body and her mind's eye's self begin shaking, and Desara can feel enough sweat come off her body to create a new swimming pool for the sanctuary. Fear grips her from the core outward, and any chance of rational thoughts is destroyed. Her concentration is lost, and suddenly she is spiraling out of her meditation at a rate too fast to be safe. But then, it is over. Desara calms herself down enough so that she is able to go back to that level of meditation. Her mind is still and quiet.  
Outside the door Ré left her at, Desara presses her hand against the icy metal, only it is not truly cold; in fact it is rather warm. The door slides open at Desara's touch, so Desara hurries inside quickly, despite the brilliant white light that practically blinds her. She does not want Ré to think she is a coward for not following through. As soon as Desara is fully in the room, the door slides shut, and locks. Panicked and unable to see, Desara turns around and tries to open the the door but realizes in a matter of seconds that it will not open. She decides to venture further into the room knowing that there is now no other choice.  
Deep into the room, Desara finds an octogonal shaped nook of enormous mirrors. As soon as she enters the nook, it closes, though there was neither a door or walls to close when she entered. It unsettles Desara, but there is literally no turning back now. The blinding light reflects off the mirrors surrounding the blinded teenager; it never seems to grow dimmer, implying that the source of the light is in the room of mirrors. Desara yearns to shut it off, so she fumbles around the room, trying in vain to find the power switch. Suddenly, the lights go dark, leaving poor Desara blinded by the darkness. Cold wraps itself around her and clings tightly to her body. Desara's physical body back in the cell even has chills from the cold. Shivering, Desara opens her now adjusted eyes and looks up. Instantly, she begins walking towards the biggest mirror of them all in the center of the room, for it glows with a purple aura enveloping a pure gray mirror. Cautiously, Desara touches it, and is zapped the very second she touches it. She looks up and sees her reflection staring back at her. Only, her reflection is wearing pure white, and it is STEPPING OUT OF THE MIRROR! Leaping back, Desara moves out of the way of her reflection; as she leaps she notices her outfit is now completely gray, as if someone had ripped all the color out of it. Looking up, Desara also notices that there is another reflection of herself coming out of the mirror, however this one is wearing all black. The two reflections approach Desara at unnerving speed. The one in black reaching her first and extends a hand; Desara is hesitant to take it.  
"Trust me," the reflection says softly.  
"Why should I? You wear the color forbidden to the Jedi."  
"Not all who look like the enemy are. Now take my hand." The reflection is more forceful in her words. Desara, in awe of her reflection's wise words, takes her hand mindlessly. The moment, their hands touch, the reflection in white is breaking them apart.  
"What do you think you're doing, Desara? Didn't Master ever teach you not to trust someone adorned in the forbidden color?" Desara pulls back from both reflections and shakes her head.  
"I've worn black before."  
"But you were not wearing all black. Now come with me if you ever want to escape this place and your cell." The reflection in black stands there silently. "Are you going to listen to me and follow my path, or are you going to stand there like an idiot?" When Desara neither moves nor answers, the reflection in white gives her a glare as cold as Hoth. "I can take you to the Trials. What can she do for you?" The reflection in black stares wide eyes at Desara and the other reflection.  
"I can help you find your family. I can take you down a path few before you have been able to take. I can show you things you cannot even imagine. But there will be pain, anger, suffering. Fear will grip so tightly that breathing will be difficult, but you will find answers to questions you do not even know you are asking. But, I will not make you come with me. The choice is purely yours." Desara looks back and forth between the two reflections of herself. Can this really be what Ré had in mind when she left Desara at the door? No, it cannot be. But then, what is this? As if on cue, Desara's heart begins racing in her throat as sweat pours out in buckets. She feels herself shaking, and her chest tightens; just to breathe Desara is forced to hyperventilate. Her senses go into overload, and Desara starts crying. The worst part of it is that Desara does not even know why she acting like this.  
The reflection in black places a hand on Desara's shoulder, eases her into a sitting position, and kneels beside her. "Breathe, Desara. In for eight, out for twelve. That's excellent. Keep breathing, just like that. Nothing is going to happen to you." Once Desara has calmed down enough to speak and think clearly, she turns to the reflection in black.  
"Why did you do that?"  
"Because she is a Dark Side user! She made you act like that so she could try and trick you into joining her!" The reflection in white shouts.  
"You're safe, Desara. No one is going to hurt you." Desara thanks her reflection and stands up. Next, with a couple more deep breaths, Desara speaks.  
"I've made my decision." Desara turns to her reflection in white. "Show me the way." Then they walk out of the room of mirrors, a door now open for them. The giant gray mirror start glowing blue and draws the reflection in black back into it. She goes willingly.  
Eyes opening, Desara blinks as she recalls where she is. She is back in her cell with Ré, who is still wearing her black dress. Ré immediately hugs Desara and cries tears of joy.  
"You're okay! I was so scared!"  
"I'm fine," Desara replies starkly. Something is off in her spirit, and she feels cold from the inside out. Whatever happened in that room is having effects now.  
"While you were meditating, I figured out like whom you look."  
'Whom?"  
"Former Queen and Senator Padmé Amidala, but she died over fifty years ago."  
"That's lovely, Ré."  
"What happened in there, Desara? You don't seem like yourself."  
"I'm fine." The cold in Desara's spirit grows colder.  
"No, you are not. Tell me, did you find a room of mirrors?"  
"Yes. Why?"  
"Desara, that was the Trial of Spirit. And I don't think you passed."

So that is Chapter 4. I really hope you all liked it! I'm sorry it's shorter than usual. That reminds me, I have a confession to make. I am so busy right now that I might not be able to get chapters out weekly or make them as long as I would like. Please forgive me, but please understand where I am coming from. I adore you all greatly, and I want to make you all happy with my chapters, but there is only so much I can do. That said, thank you all so much for reading! I love you all! Don't forget to follow, favorite, and review! 


	6. Chapter 5

Hey, Butterflies! I'm back! I hope last chapter satisfied you all, and I hope this chapter will too. Please note: I'm writing this chapter a little differently; though it will still be in 3rd Person POV, I will be an omniscient narrator rather than a limited narrator as I have been in the previous chapters. Here's Chapter 5!

Disclaimer: _Star Wars_ belongs to Disney.

* * *

The deep chill settles in Desara's bones and grows colder. It does not stop, and the further it goes, the colder it grows. Slowly, her heart will freeze solid, and the rest of her body will follow. Once that happens, there will be no hope for Desara; she will be lost forever. Until that happens, however, Desara still has a chance.

Ré paces anxiously back and forth in the cell. She knows what is happening to Desara because she has seen it before. But saving the person is unique to each individual, and she does not know Desara well enough to know how to save her. All she can do is hope for a miracle or some kind of intervention from the Force. To lose Desara means to lose her last hope of finding out why what happened happened. Ré is not sure she is ready to let go of what happened; there were too many questions.

On the seat against the wall of the cell, Desara shivers. She cannot seem to warm up, but the cold does not bother her. In fact, she rather likes it. Still, something seems off. She wants to ask Ré how she knows about the Trial of Spirit and how she knows she failed, but something is holding Desara back from inside her mind. But what?

Down the hall, a guard struts towards the cell with the handmaiden and the teenager; he would much rather be anywhere else, but he has to do whatever the Queen commands, even if it means bringing the handmaiden to her chambers constantly. He does not see why the Queen cannot just release the handmaiden and simplify the entire situation. As for the teenager, why is she even being detained? She obviously does not know the Naboo customs and lacks social skills. Queen Skior should be more understanding of the girl's situation. But what does he, a lowly guard, know about detaining prisoners?

The guard stops at the door, activates a ray shield, opens the door, and asks Ré to approach the door. When she does so, the guard deactivates the ray shield and takes the handmaiden's hand as he helps her into the hallway. Then he closes and locks the door; he places a hand behind Ré's back and guides his romantic interest down the hallway and up the stairs. He wonders if Ré feels the same way about him as he feels for her, though he knows her duty lies with her mistress first, until either of them dies.

Back in the cell, Desara feels a soft throb of warmth inside her, but she fights it. Warmth is bad, she is discovering, and it must be avoided at all costs. The Force is not warm; it is as cold as Hoth, if not colder. Anything warm is dangerous and an enemy of the Force. With that thought, the ice forms a thin layer around Desara's heart that covers the whole things. She is slipping quickly.

In the Queen's quarters, Ré silently braids a section of the Queen's thin hair and wraps it around her forehead. As she pins it to the opposite side behind Queen Skoir's ear, the Queen speaks.

"I hope being detained has taught you a lesson."

"Yes, Mistress, it has."

"What might that lesson be?"

"Never to speak out of turn, disobey you, or defend an offender of Your Majesty, my lady."

"Excellent." Ré steps back, examines her work, and reaches for the Naboo royal crown. She gently but firmly places it and secures it on the Queen's head. "You know, Ré, why your little padawan friend is still alive?"

"No, my lady, I do not. If my lady would be so gracious as to tell me, my lady's handmaiden would be beholden to her for years." Queen Skoir smiles sneakily under all her white make up.

"It is because of who her mother is." Ré stiffens slightly. "Yes, I know about your little lie about her heritage."

"Mistress, I can ex-"

"Silence." Ré bows her head and stops talking. "Let's just say her mother was one of the worst representatives Naboo has ever had. Leia Organa was her name, and she was once the princess of Alderaan." Still silent, Ré pulls some ribbons from a drawer and starts weaving them into the Queen's intricate hairstyle. "I bet you are wondering how I came to find such information." Ré nods. "Your friend introduced herself as a Solo, so I went through some of the closed records, and found that Representative Organa's betrothed was a former smuggler by the name of Han Solo. I knew at once that they had to be her parents because who else would name their child 'Desara'?"

"I believe it to be pronounced Dee-Sarr-ah, my lady."

"Did being detained teach you nothing?"

"A thousand apologies, Mistress. My lady, what do you intend to do with her?" Queen Skoir peers in the mirror, satisfied with the hairstyle her handmaiden has slaved away over. She shrugs.

"Kill her, I suppose." The Queen studies the hairstyle a little more. "You may go now, Ré." Ré curtseys to the Queen before leaving the royal chambers and meeting the guard outside.

"Take me back to the cell," Ré cries softly.

In the cell, Desara naps; it is the only way she can find relief from the incessant throb of warmth. In her dream, Desara is back in the room of mirrors, and both her reflections are there. The one in black looks exhausted and defeated while the one in white looks strong and confident. The two are talking, and it is evident that the one in black is using all of her strength. The reflection in white is laughing and telling her counterpart that she should not have told Desara what would happen if she went with her. No energy or will to fight back left, the one in black drops her head. Then she looks up and says that the one in white should have warned Desara of the consequences of following her. In reply, the one in white scoffs and asks if that would be worth missing the fun of watching her counterpart die.

Next to Desara, a rather short young woman with long brown hair and sparkling brown eyes appears. When she whispers Desara's name, it is like summer wind itself. Surprised, Desara turns to look at the person who whispered her name. For some reason, the woman is familiar to Desara, though she has never seen her before in her sheltered life. She looks somewhat like the hologram of Desara's mother from those thirty year ago.

"Mother?" Desara asks shyly. The woman shakes her head.

"My name is Padmé Amidala Naberrie. I want to talk to you about something," the young woman's voice is as gentle as a cloud. The two walk over to one of the mirrors far way from the two reflections. There, Padmé explains what is happening in Desara's spirit. At first Desara does not seem bothered by it, until Padmé mentions what this process does to a person's life. That is when Desara really wakes up to the reality of the situation. She will never truly learn to live if she continues to freeze over. "Desara, just because you failed the first time, does not mean that you will fail now." Then Padmé wraps Desara in a gently hug before vanishing from her dream with the words, "Happy birthday."

Confidently, Desara approaches the two reflections, the one in black keeled over and dying. Desara helps her to feet and allows her to lean on her. Next she turns to the reflection in white.

"What are you two?" The one is black weakly answers they are Desara's spirit. When Desara asks for more information, the one in white leaves, and the one in black shakes her head and whispers Ré's name before dematerializing before Desara's eyes. However, before she can even begin figuring out what just happened, Desara wakes up. Ré is standing above her and asking what she dreamed. In one word, Desara sums up her entire dream: Padmé.

Before either has any time to really process what is happening, the guard who escorted Ré is pushing them out of the cell and onto the streets of Theed. He gives promises them Desara's master's droids on the ship before he runs back to his post in the royal palace. Ré removes her black cloak and drapes it over Desara, pulling the hood up as she does so.

"Why are you doing this for me, Ré?"

"Because you are in danger, and I know you still have to complete a rite of passage. That, and you and I have ties together."

"Like what?"

"My father was a Jedi, and he was assigned to protect your mother, the Naboo representative for the Galactic Treaty drafting, even though your mother was a Jedi herself. Things were fine until the day they hit." Ré begins crying as she talks. "They bombed it to a pulp, and we thought no one survived. Dad spent hours searching for any signs of life, but he found not one. Mom had to come drag him away from the site; he lost it when your father arrived and was desperately looking through the rubble.

"My poor dad, he was so scared of what would happen if Headmaster Skywalker found out he failed to protect Representative Organa. Dad was terrified of what Headmaster Skywalker would do if he ever learned that his sister had died because of Dad's failure. Dad hated himself and was constantly blaming himself. Finally," for a moment Ré loses her ability to speak. "Finally, he snapped and turned to the Dark Side. Headmaster Skywalker knew it and sent some of his best to take care of Dad. Headmaster Skywalker said it was not safe to have a Dark Side user running around. They killed him, but, Desara, Dad wasn't evil; he still loved us and was the same as before only slightly snarkier and colder. He wasn't the evil everyone believes the Dark Side users to be, which is what I never understood.

"I was three at the time, and only a few years later, Mom lost it and turned, so Headmaster Skywalker sent his best to get her as well. I was sent to a school where we learned to serve the Queen, which is how I ended up as a handmaiden." Ré takes a long deep breath as she cries. "In an effort to eradicate the Dark Side from the galaxy, the Jedi are making it grow stronger and are wiping out any chance of a middle path." Ré's story grips Desara's spirit and penetrates the layers of ice forming around it. Like snow melting off a branch, the ice drips off her spirit as she warms up.

"I'm so sorry, Ré."

"It's not your fault, Desara. You cannot control what your uncle chose to do." Desara stops short. She thinks about it. Yes, if Headmaster Skywalker was her mother's brother, then he is by all means her uncle. Could that be whom she was talking to in her vision? But then, who died?

At the ship, the two droids come rushing out to greet Desara. Turning to Ré, Desara hugs her and thanks her for everything that she and her family have ever done for her and her family. Just as Desara is about to board, Ré calls her and gives her back the bag with the lightsabers in it, explaining that she stole them back from Queen Skoir. Desara smiles, hugs her friend, and promises to return some day. Then Desara boards the ship and prepares for take-off.

Once in space, a short hologram transmission comes through. It is a recording, so Desara cannot reply to it, but it is from Master, wishing her a happy fifteenth birthday. That is right. Today is her fifteenth birthday. Desara almost laughs. This time last week, all she wanted to do by her fifteenth birthday was be able to run the obstacle course in one run; now here she is on her way to completing the Trials. Funny how the Force works like that.

* * *

So not really a cliffhanger or anything, but I figured kind of a calmer ending might be better. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, and I hope you all will keep reading! I love you all so much, and you all mean so much to me! Don't forget to follow, favorite, and review! Love you all!


	7. Chapter 6

So, Butterflies, I am back. I hope you all are doing well! I do want to go ahead and put this out there: I know some people like to listen to music as they read a story and sometimes come up with their own soundtracks to go with it. For this particular story, my soundtrack has been solely "Heart Cry" by Drehz from the album _Perpetual Emotions_. For the record, I don't own that either. That's all I've really got to say, so let's get started.

Disclaimer: _Star Wars_ belongs to Disney, and "Heart Cry" belongs to Dehz.

* * *

Fifteen, alone in space, and with a criminal record. Not exactly how Desara had imagined her birthday, but at least she is alive. And now, she has information that will help her search for the Trials go far more smoothly. She knows her uncle is Luke Skywalker, so now she has a place to start looking besides at the dead end tracing her mother's family tree brought her to.

Gently, for her frozen spirit is still thawing, Desara pulls out her datapad and researches Luke Skywalker. What she finds is useful, but nothing mentions any relation to her mother or father; all it says is Luke fought against the Empire alongside important Rebellion leader such as Princess Leia Organa, and a few others. Desara's father is not even mentioned. Desara does not understand. Her mother was a princess, a Rebellion leader, and a representative, and her uncle was at some time the Headmaster and fought in the Rebellion. How could their paths crossing not be mentioned? How could her father not be mentioned? Even if he were a nobody, surely he would have come up at some point in her research.

Dismayed, Desara closes out of her research and puts her datapad away; she will come back to it later. She is simply too frustrated and too worn out to keep looking at fruitless searches. Desara does not know why she is so worn out, but she supposes it has something to do with the fact that she is on the run from the Queen of Naboo. Little does she know that what is actually exhausting her is the thawing of her frozen spirit. She decides to go take a nap and leaves the two droids in charge of the ship. Then she slips away to find a quiet area of the ship to claim as her quarters. She finds a quiet space, sets up a makeshift cot and lies down. Her eyelids close, her breathing slows, her mind silences. Sleep overtakes the young padawan almost instantly, and she is transported to a place of dark peacefulness.

Sensing someone behind her, Desara turns to look and sees Padmé Amidala dressed in a strapless shimmery purple dress. Padmé smiles at Desara and takes her hand.

"I hear you are looking for information on Luke Skywalker." Desara nods. "Let me help you." Again Desara nods. "Luke's father and Luke both grew up on the same planet in the Outer Rim, a planet called Tatooine. I'm sure you won't find that in your research." Padmé laughs kindly as she utters the last part of her sentence. In return, Desara giggles and smiles brightly. Seeing that her work is done, Padmé pulls Desara in closer and into a hug before kissing the top of her head. Then she starts to leave.

"Wait, Padmé!" Desara calls. Padmé stops leaving. "Ré mentioned the Dark Side. What is it?" Padmé inhales sharply.

"I wish I could tell you, child. I really do, but I can't." There is a pain to Padmé's voice that Desara had never heard before. "I love you too much to tell you," Padmé whispers softly as she embraces Desara in a motherly fashion.

Desara wakes with a jolt. Tatooine? She can totally get to Tatooine. The only problem is that she has no idea where Tatooine is in the Outer Rim. Oh well. She supposes that is what the ship's navigation system is for. Calmly, she packs up the materials she used to make a makeshift cot and makes her way back towards the cockpit. She slides into the pilot's seat and starts pressing buttons. She pulls up the navigation system, searches Tatooine, gets the coordinates, and sends them off to the other side of the Outer Rim. Once they arrive, Desara asks the astromech droid to control the ship while she takes care of something. Next, Desara closes her eyes, takes several deep breaths and feels the coolness of the Force against her burning spirit. It settles her passion until she is calm enough to receive information. Then the Force whispers to her to land on the planet near the city Mos Eisley; it promises to guide her there. Accepting the Force's declaration, Desara pulls mostly out of her meditation and begins descending over the place the Force told her to land in. The descent takes very little time, much to Desara's happiness.

Before Desara even leaves the ship, she turns to the protocol droid and demands that it stay in the ship; she cannot afford a repeat of Naboo. Next she grabs the cloak Ré gave her and the bag holding the lightsabers. Then she and the astromech droid leave for the desert unknown. Mind racing, Desara begs the Force for its guidance. A cool breeze blows the sand to the southwest, so the two follow it.

After a few hours' walk, the teenager and the droid arrive in Mos Eisley. The hub-bub of the city overwhelms Desara, and she loses control of her thoughts and emotions. The droid tweets loudly, telling Desara to keep a hand on it so they can stay together. Desara agrees, and the droids guides them to the archives of Mos Eisley. Desara thanks the droid and asks it if it will kindly wait for her. When it replies it will, Desara disappears inside the archives.

Inside, the archives are dark and empty. Desara finds no one in the building, nor does she find any records of Luke Skywalker. Desara's frustration grows and grows until it is welling up inside of her. All she wants is to find the Trials, and her family. All she has found is a hatred in the galaxy she never knew existed. But now that she knows about it, she begins to wonder what the Jedi have done to make the galaxy hate them so. What did her family do to make them abandon her on the steps of the Jedi Temple fifteen years ago? What did _she_ do to make herself so unlovable?

A cool hug wraps around Desara as she battles her tears. A true Jedi never cries, Desara reminds herself, but something about that does not sit right. Instead, she lets go and allows the sobs to come. All the while, the hug holds her, and when she has cried out all of her tears, it whispers to her spirit that the Hutts know a lot about the planet of Tatooine. It vows to lead her to the Hutts. Drying her eyes, Desara collects herself and throws the black cloak on over herself; she walks out of the abandoned archives and turns to the last place she saw Master's astromech droid. Much to Desara's relief, the droid is still there. Desara explains they are going to see the Hutts; immediately, the little droid tweets and twitters in objection.

"I thought you said you didn't know who anyone is the Headmaster's droid's memory is." The sass is evident in Desara's voice. The droid stops making noise. "Thought so. Now let's go."

The two make their way across the desert with only the Force and Desara's dull instincts to guide them. If either of their guides is off by even a hair, the droid and the padawan will never see civilization again. Right now, that is the last thing Desara needs to be worried about. What she ought to be worried about is heatstroke in her dark blue, tight fitting jumpsuit and her black cloak. Yet she does not seem to be affected by the heat in the slightest bit.

The breeze stops at the start of a dirt road through a canyon. With a nod, Desara begins the long walk to the Hutt's dwellings. It takes a long while, and a sandstorm especially does not help her case. She ends up pulling the hood of the cloak up and over her head in order to cover her eyes; she never puts it back down. The canyon never seems to end, until at last, the slightest bit a rooftop appears on the horizon. Adrenaline pumping, Desara races towards the rooftop, her lightsaber bag hitting her hip and her cloak flapping as she runs.

Once at the door of the Hutt's dwellings, Desara can now see the place is more than just an ordinary dwelling; it is a palace. Cautiously, Desara approaches the sleeping guards and taps on one of their shoulders. He wakes with a start and gives Desara a look she has never seen before but knows it cannot be a good one. Then he asks Desara her business, and she replies that she wishes to speak with the current Hutt in charge. The guards laugh at Desara with each other. The other guard ridicules Desara and tells her "the master" has no business with puny humans. Frustrated, Desara says that she wishes to ask "the master" a question pertaining to the history of the Hutt clan. The guards look at each other and shrug. They call "the master's" right hand man to come escort Desara. As soon as they think she is out of earshot, Desara hears them laughing and mimicking her. Maybe they are right. Maybe she should just turn back while she still has the chance. What business does "the master" have with just a regular human girl like Desara?

In the throne room, Desara is in for a surprise; she was not expecting the Hutts to be giant slugs, but that is surely what they are. Desara bows slightly to the giant slug out of respect and holds her tongue lest a repeat of Naboo take place. The Hutt speaks in its native language, but Desara does not understand. The Hutt sees this and calls for a protocol droid to come translate, much to Desara's relief. Once more the Hutt speaks in its native language, but this time the protocol droid translates.

"The Most Exalted Rotta the Hutt, son of Jabba the Hutt, wishes to know your name and your business."

"Most Exalted Rotta the Hutt, son of Jabba the Hutt, I am Desara Solo, and I wish to learn more about the family Skywalker and the Hutt clan." The droid translates.

"His Excellency wishes to know what you have to give him in return for information."

"Your Excellency, I have very little. All I have are the clothes I wear, this cloak, and -" Desara stops talking before she reveals that she has lightsabers.

"And what?"

"Nothing, Most Exalted Rotta the Hutt, son of Jabba the Hutt. Just the clothes I wear and my cloak." Rotta the Hutt stares long at hard down at Desara, as if he is contemplating her words. His eyes scan her entire body, lingering on each millimeter. Suddenly, he jerks his eyes away from Desara, as if he is fighting an impulse. "Great and Mighty Rotta the Hutt, son of Jabba the Hutt, are you alright?" Rotta is taken aback by Desara's question. He says something to the droid.

"The Mighty Rotta the Hutt, son of Jabba the Hutt, says that he is fine. And thank you for asking." Desara bows slightly and says Rotta is welcome. All of a sudden, a deep impulse to turn around over takes Desara, and she comes face to face with the guards from the outside and several other creatures with weapon drawn. Rotta shouts to them to stand down, but they refuse to listen to him. Seeing that she has no choice, Desara reaches into her bag and pulls out her own lightsaber. Pleading to the Force that she is holding it correctly, Desara ignites it and takes a defensive position. The group of attackers and Rotta all gasp.

"JEEDAI!" Rotta's cry could not be any clearer to Desara. She has given herself and the fact she carries a lightsaber away. "Boska cheekta!" The droid translates for Desara. She feels her lightsaber being pulled out of her hands and her cloak being removed. They find the bag tucked in the seam of the cloak and pull out the other two lightsabers. Rotta explains that those lightsabers will do nicely as payment for information.

"Please, no! Those are my master's!"

"Which do you value more: your life or your weapon?" Rotta asks, and the droid translates. Desara thinks for a moment.

"You may keep the two in the bag, but the one I wielded is mine. Now talk, Your Excellency." Rotta tells Desara all that he knows, which is not much because all his father's records were on board the sail barge his father died on; all the records were destroyed when the barge was destroyed. Desara nods, so Rotta continues. He explains that decades ago, before the Empire came to power, when he was a little Hutt, he was kidnapped, and Anakin Skywalker had to come save him. Rotta pauses for a second. Almost thirty years later, it was another Skywalker who helped bring the death of his father Jabba the Hutt. Desara apologizes to Rotta for his loss and then asks what he knows about a Princess Leia Organa. Rotta draws back and admits to Desara that Jabba had once captured Leia and made her his slave until Leia killed Jabba with the very leash he used to control her. Next, Rotta makes another thinking face. He says something, so the droid translates.

"The Most High Rotta the Hutt wishes to know if you are by any chance related to the smuggler Han Solo," the droid translates. Rotta says something else. "Forgive me. Ex-smuggler Han Solo." Desara stares down at the ground.

"I wish I knew, Great and Powerful Rotta the Hutt. I know only my name, my mother's name, and now my uncle's name, but I have never met anyone in my family before." Desara collects herself and bows. "Many thanks for the information, Most Exalted Rotta the Hutt, son of Jabba the Hutt." Then she Desara starts to leave, grabbing her cloak, her now empty bag, and her lightsaber on her way out. She already knows Master is going to kill her for bargaining away his lightsabers with a Hutt, but what other choice did she have?

At the entrance to the canyon, Desara greets the astromech droid and says they should go. She wraps the heavy cloak around herself as the two suns of Tatooine set. They return to the ship after many more hours of walking. Exhausted, Desara heads straight for the place she claimed as her own earlier in the day, and makes her makeshift cot again. Then she lies down to sleep. Her dreams are filled with Master telling her she failed and will never become a Jedi, and Padmé telling her not to lose hope. Desara does not know whom to trust, and even in her sleep, the shaking, the crying, and the hyperventilating take place. You are dying, Desara's mind tells her over and over again. Oh, how she wishes she could die. Oh, how she wishes.

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So that is Chapter 6. Again, it's filler chapter, but I figured you all needed a rest from the whole, imprisoned and awaiting her fate thing. Also, I'm going to go ahead and say this: If you all know what I am describing in Desara, please do not tell. That's all I've got for now. I love you all so much, and I'll post the next chapter as soon as I can! Don't forget to follow, favorite, and review!


	8. Chapter 7

Welcome back, my Butterflies! I hope you all are doing well! This chapter, I hope, you all will find to be more exciting than the last couple of chapters. Speaking of the last couple of chapters, let's recap. In the prologue, Desara is left in Jedi care as infant. In Chapter 1, Desara continues her Padawan training with Master, which then carries over into Chapter 2. In Chapter 2, Desara leaves to search for the Trials in order to become a Jedi Knight and discovers the key to finding the Trials is her unknown family. During Chapter 3, Desara finds herself on Naboo, and in prison with a handmaiden named Ré, where she spends the next four chapters. Likewise, in Chapter 4, Desara undergoes the Trial of Spirit and meets the ghost of Padmé. In Chapter 5, we discover a little of Ré's heritage as well as Desara's. And finally, in Chapter 6, Desara heads over to Tatooine and meets with Rotta the Hutt, and also loses Master's two lightsabers in the process. I think that we're all caught up now. Enjoy the chapter!

Disclaimer: _Star Wars_ belongs to Disney.

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When Desara wakes up, there is darkness, pure darkness. It disorients her and dizzies her. What happened? Where is she? How did she get here? These questions and others circulate through Desara's head as she struggles to make sense of her situation. The last thing she remembers is falling asleep and having terrible nightmares. She remembers how alone and lost she felt, and most of all, she remembers the number of mysteries piling up faster than she is able to solve them. But how in the galaxy she got to be where she is now, wherever that might be, she will probably never know. Right now, her main goals are to a: figure where she is, and b: how to get back to where she needs to be.

Slowly but surely, muffled sounds creep their way into the darkness holding Desara captive. She cannot discern what the sounds are or where they are coming from, but they sound very familiar. At first, Desara's mind thinks of Ré, but then she realizes it is impossible for Ré to be here. The unknown sounds grow louder and louder, but they grow more and more blended and mashed together as they do; Desara's mind immediately kicks into overload as it desperately tries to make sense of the situation. All of a sudden, something grabs Desara, so she jerks. Her heart pounds in her chest. Something most definitely grabbed her, but the question is a matter of what grabbed her. Should she be alarmed; was it friend or foe?

Desara tries to move her arm, wanting to pull it away from whomever just grabbed it, but she finds that she cannot. Now panic is really starting to take hold of her, so Desara tries again to move her arm. Again, she cannot. The situation keeps getting worse and worse. This time, Desara tries to move her other arm and both her legs, but to no avail. Completely immobile and unable to see what has happened to her leaves Desara in a vulnerable and fearful state. She calls out to Padmé, Ré, and Master, but no one responds. She calls out to the droids or anyone to help. Finally, she calls out to the Force to help her and finds only silence in return. Desara cries as she wishes for someone to help her, only to discover the darkness absorbs her voice; all hope is lost.

"You sure it's her?" a gruff voice asks, the first thing Desara has been able to understand since she woke up.

"Positive. Who else would carry lightsabers and bear the last name Solo?" someone else replies. "Besides, even if she's not, they won't know until after we've collected the bounty. Think about it, Eviowh. The riches as far as the eye can see and all because we caught the missing piece after fifteen years." The one called Eviowh chuckles deeply and sighs.

"I can't believe that after all these years, she came to us!" Desara's heart pounds in her head. Who found her? What bounty? What about her last name? Why do they want her? Ugh! If only she knew more about her heritage. If only she knew about what happened when her family was attacked. As soon as Desara hears her thoughts, she realizes something: the Jedi have been banned on Naboo since the before the Galactic Empire took over, but Ré also said her father and her school teacher were Jedi. Was her father's identity as a Jedi kept secret, and did her school teacher teach her the ways of the Force in secret, after all of her daily lessons finished? That must have been it, Desara concludes. But how did no one get suspicious? Maybe someone did, someone Ré never knew about.

"Won't Rotta be mad that we sold his prized visitor a lot of bounty hunters?" Eviowh growled.

"Of course he will be. If he finds out." Desara is now truly scared. Why is she being sold to bounty hunters? What was Rotta the Hutt planning to do with her? Suddenly, Desara feels something warm but metallic pressing against her wrists and ankles. She yearns to know what is pressing against her skin, but her sight is still missing.

"So, Voltan, where are we meeting these bounty hunters?" Eviowh asks, unamused.

"Where the planet Alderaan used to be. I'm not sure why anyone would want to be out there. There's nothing but a bunch of asteroids left." Desara gasps, but the sound is swallowed by the darkness. The two, from the sound of it, start walking away but soon stop short. "Eviowh, how long will those injections last? You did give her quite a few."

"It depends. The knock out drug should be wearing off already if it hasn't already worn off, and those sense inhibitors are going to take a while. Her voice shouldn't be back for some time, and the Force inhibitors will wear off in about 17 hours." Now Desara really starts to panic. Force inhibitors?! What in the galaxy is she supposed to do about those?! It is not like she can use the Force to purge them from her system because those inhibitors prevent her from using the Force.

Gradually, a bitter taste grows in her mouth. There is nothing in her mouth, but something most definitely tastes horribly bitter. At first Desara wonders what is causing the taste, but she gives up and just assumes that one or more the injection she was given must be responsible. A little while after regaining her sense of taste, Desara regains her sense of smell. The ship, or whatever it is she is on, is without a doubt used. It smells of dried blood drowned out by the scent of something indescribably nasty. What makes the smell worse is the fact that Desara regained her sense of smell during a big inhale. It makes Desara gag and become nauseated. How much more of this will she have to endure? This should count as the Trial of Flesh in and of itself.

A few more hours, blurred colors gradually begin appearing in Desara's eyes. Her sight is coming back! She never wants to go back to being completely without her senses as long as she lives. Unfortunately, she still has Force inhibitors in her system, so escaping will be difficult.

As Desara's vision clears, she begins assessing her surroundings. From the looks of it, she is in some kind of cell and has metal cuffs on her wrists and ankles. She still cannot move her arms or legs, but that might not be a bad thing. In fact, it will give her time to learning patience. Who knows how far she is from Alderaan. Then a thought dawns on Desara: she needs to try to use her voice. She says a few things, and sure enough her voice is back; it is just a little raspy is all. She starts chanting softly to herself a Jedi meditation mantra Master had taught her years ago. Even if she cannot use the Force in her current state, it is still good for Desara to practice the mantra.

Soon after beginning the mantra, Desara feels a pain and a hollowness in her stomach. She knows she hungry, and she does not have the Force to sustain herself off of; she has no way to fuel her body. Yet, she keeps chanting the mantra. After a while, the cell door opens. Desara looks up to find a pale green creature with eyes like the night sky; Rhodians she thinks they are called. Some part of Desara wants to smile to the Rhodian, but she suppresses it. Instead, she keeps chanting.

"I'm glad to know you got your voice back. It's quite a beautiful voice." The chanting stops.

"Thank you. Your eyes are quite lovely."

"Thank you," the Rhodian replies. "Do you need anything?" Why is this bounty

hunter being nice to Desara? Are they not supposed to be ruthless and cold hearted?

"I am hungry and a little thirsty." The Rhodian says he will be back soon. Then he leaves the cell and returns with some water and some kind of fruit. Desara glances down at the cuffs around her wrists. The Rhodian shakes his head and explains that unfortunately the cuffs have to stay on, but he offers to help Desara. She gratefully accepts his offer.

After the Rhodian helps Desara, he prepares to leave.

"Which one are you?"Desara's question is short, to the point, and a bit confusing. The Rhodian gives her a blank look. "Are you Voltan or Eviowh?" The Rhodian looks Desara a remorseful look, but he quickly changes his expression.

"Eviowh, Miss Solo." Then the Rhodian, who Desara now knows is Eviowh, leaves her in the cell.

Desara quietly drifts off to sleep; for some strange reason she feels drowsy, though she supposes it is simply from all those injections being in her body. Her sleep is not plagued by visions of Padmé or of her two reflections. Nightmares of Master leave her alone, and a soft melody brushes past her. Nothing disturbs her. If these are the results of the Force inhibitors, Desara wishes to be on those every day. So what if she would not be able to use the Force with those? It is not like she could use the Force very well without them, and at least she would be able to rest peacefully.

Her blue eyes burst open and painfully adjust to the darkness of the cell. For a brief moment, Desara forgets where she is, until she tries to move. When she cannot, she remembers what had happened before she fell asleep. She recollects that she is on two bounty hunters' ship and is on her way to where Alderaan used to be. Chills run down her spine as she thinks that she will be seeing what remains of her mother's homeworld. Maybe going to Alderaan is not such a grand idea after all.

Abruptly, the ship lands, jostling Desara about her cell as it does. A few short minutes later, Voltan and Eviowh open the cell door.

"Let her walk, and let's go meet this client," Voltan says. Eviowh steps towards Desara and bangs the cuffs around her ankles on the back right side, and the cuffs fly open. "Let's move."

"Thank you, Eviowh," Desara whispers. Eviowh says nothing. "Why were you so nice to me earlier?" For a moment, Eviowh says nothing, but then he leans down and whispers harshly in Desara's ear.

"Because I'm a bounty hunter, and I like my quarry alive if that is what the client wants." Desara stops talking after Eviowh's response. Is that really all she is? Just quarry? She was trained by one of the best Jedi in the galaxy (or so she has been told) and released into the galaxy as nothing more than quarry? She did not even get to find the rest of the Trials or her family, yet it has to end with her being captured and being taken to a random stranger. No! This cannot be how her story is supposed to end! She is supposed to be destined to become a Jedi Knight and perhaps a master in later years! Desara begins to cry softly. All Master really ever did for her was teach her a few tricks and then send her off into the galaxy to die an early death.

Voltan, Eviowh, and Desara all step off the ship, and much to Desara's (and Voltan and Eviowh's too) surprise, they are in a beautiful mountainous region with waterfalls and lakes. Most importantly, they can breathe, as if this asteroid has its own atmosphere. Voltan mutters something under his breath that Desara assumes are not the most polite words.

"I thought the Imperials blew this place up decades ago!" Voltan exclaims. "What the pfassk is this doing here?!" Before anyone can answer, something forces the cuffs around Desara's wrists to fall off. "How did she do that? I thought you said those Force inhibitors were still good for another five hours!" Voltan's shrill voice pierces Desara's ears and makes her cringe. A feeling of being watched from behind overcomes Desara, so she instinctively throws the hood to her cloak up and conceals her face; after all of this, Desara knows she does not need the Force to tell her when someone is watching her.

"They should still be good for another five hours! Someone must have knocked them off!" Eviowh cries. Even though Desara knows she could run away at any moment now, she hesitates. There is something not right here, and no one needs the Force to know that.

Out of nowhere, a tall figure clothed in pure white appears. With a wave of what appears to be an arm, silence falls on the group of three. Desara stares intently at the figure; she gasps.

"My vision!" she exclaims quietly to herself. But could someone who wears the purest color of all really be who she saw in her visions? No, there is no way. The enemy of the Jedi wear only black, so this cannot possibly be whom she saw.

'Welcome, visitors, to Alderaan."

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And that's a wrap! I hope you all enjoyed the chapter, Butterflies, even if it was a bit shorter than usual. I know I enjoyed writing it! As a note, I did use a name generator to come up with Eviowh's name, and unfortunately, I cannot put the link in my any chapters lest I risk getting my account suspended. To find it, though, just search "Star Wars name generator" and click on whichever one says (and I won't continue the link, but you get the idea). Thank you all so much for reading! Don't forget to follow, favorite, and review! Love you all!


	9. Chapter 8

Hey, Butterflies! I'm back with Chapter 8! Can you all believe that I have nine chapters posted, including this one? I've had so much fun writing this story, and I cannot wait to start the next one, but it might be a while before I actually get to it. Blondiebugsie and I are currently working through some roadblocks that will affect how the next story plays out, but those of you who have added me to their Author Alerts will get a notification once I post it. That's all I have for now, so let's get started!

Disclaimer: _Star Wars_ belongs to Disney.

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Upon taking a closer look at the figure, Desara sees that it is covered by a long white robe with its hood up. The robe touches the ground yet has not a single speck of dirt on it, and the robe's sleeves cover the hands of the person underneath; the hood, like Desara's, conceals the figure's face from view. Trying to determine the gender of the figure is impossible, even from the voice.

"Welcome, visitors, to Alderaan." There is something to the figure's gentle voice that calms Desara. No, this person is clearly not the person of her visions. "I see you have the future princess with you." Desara's brow furrows. Princess? She is definitely not a princess, not now not ever. But how did the person know who she was? Perhaps xe simply saw her face before she threw her hood up.

"You! Tell me what in the name of Jango Fett himself, is Alderaan still doing here! The Imps blew it up over thirty years ago!" Voltan fails to keep his anger and frustration under control. It ruins the aura of the surroundings. Next, the figure asks Desara, Voltan, and Eviowh to follow xe. As the figure turns to lead the group, xe notices Desara's lack of a lightsaber. The air grows stiff with tension that Desara can feel even with the Force inhibitors in her system. She lowers her gaze to the ground; she knows she does not have a Loth-cat in this fight.

"Where is the future princess's lightsaber?" the figure asks.

"What lightsaber? She had no lightsaber when we cap- rescued, when we rescued her," Eviowh explains.

"Because you definitely rescued the future princess and then put her in stun cuffs. Seems perfectly logical, NOT." Slowly, Desara begins edging her way away from the arguing three. She has to find her lightsaber. What good is a Jedi without a lightsaber? Punt this whole princess and bounty hunter thing, she needs to find the Trials. She cannot search for forever, and so far, she has only had one Trial: the Trial of Spirit; she does not even know if she passed.

As soon as she is out of sight, Desara breaks into a sprint back to the bounty hunters' ship. All she has to do is find her lightsaber, and this whole mess can end; she can find the Trials and move on with her life. Desara begins pulling everything in sight out of place and desperately searching for her lightsaber. When she cannot find it anywhere on the ship, she races back to where she last saw the figure and the two bounty hunters. What she spies will scar her and haunt her for the rest of her life. The figure's hand is outstretched, and the two bounty hunters are dangling up in the air, choking.

"What is going on here?" The fear is evident in Desara's voice. She has no idea what is happening before her. The figure immediately lowers its hand, and the two bounty hunters drop the ground, gasping for air. The figure gives no response. "I asked what is going on." Desara is not joking, but the seriousness of the question is being negated by the tremble in her voice.

"I was simply trying to learn the whereabouts of your lightsaber, future princess." Desara sighs.

"Not like that. I may not have many social skills, but even I know that you don't choke people when you're trying to get information." Desara takes a moment to collect her words before speaking again, this time to the bounty hunters. "If you two would kindly tell me where my lightsaber is, it would be most appreciated." The sentence is sophisticated for Desara, but she also picked up on a more formal way to speak after spending time with Ré. This new way of speaking is not perfect, but Desara will make it work. The bounty hunters, who have since gotten to their feet, refuse to tell Desara where her lightsaber is, not until after they receive their payment. The figure in the white cloak extends xe's hand, but lowers it when Desara glowers at xe. Suddenly, another figure, this one cloaked in black, approaches the group of four.

"You actually brought the prisoner. Impressive, most impressive." Desara's mind flashes back to her reflections during the Trial of Spirit. Black and white. But who's who? "Here is your payment," the new figure says curtly. Voltan stares down the new figure and demands to know how he can trust this figure in black. "Because I speak for Feardorcha. Here is your payment, now leave, before I change my mind." This new figure waves a hand and in one fell swoop chokes the life right out of the two bounty hunters. Desara is unsure of what scarred her more: seeing the figure in white choking the bounty hunters or seeing the figure in black kill the bounty hunters. She does not know whom to truth.

"Future princess, will do you go with me to retrieve your lightsaber from these thugs' ship?" the figure in white asks.

"NO! Feardorcha bought her from those bounty hunters, so she goes with me!" the figure in black, ze's hood up, snarls. Feeling as if she is being pulled left and right by these two quarrelling figures, Desara begins to shake. _No! I will get control over this! I have to._ Taking a few deep breaths, Desara starts to gain control over her reaction, and she soon has complete control over it. She does not know what causes that reaction or what it means, but that is not her main concern. At this moment in time, her main concern is choosing whether she should run for it or go with one of the two cloaked figures before her. Her mind flicks back to the Trial of Spirit, when she had to face a similar situation. Her reflection in white had tricked her, and who is to say that the figure in white not going to trick her as well. Yet, the figure in black killed the bounty hunters, something that her reflection in black probably would not have done. Things are just getting to be too complicated for Desara. She might as well just run.

"Don't even think about it," the figure in the black cloak growls. From the sound of the figure's voice, it is a male, but Desara is unable to identify the species. It takes Desara a moment to think, but she soon figures out what she wants to do. She turns the the figure she has chosen as her guide.

"I will go with you and meet Feardorcha, whoever xi may be." the figure in the black cloak makes a pleased sound.

"Wise choice, Jedi." With the flick of his wrist, the stun cuffs that adorned Desara's wrists not long ago, are back on her wrists and latched securely. Maybe this was not such a good decision.

Desara and the figure begin walking in the direction whence the figure originally came. Desara wishes she knew where they are going, but she figures she should keep her mouth shut. After all, this is the person who killed the bounty hunters. Who knows what else he is capable of doing. Personally, Desara would rather not find out the answer to that.

After a long walk in utter silence as dawn breaks in the Alderaan sky, the figure and Desara, both wearing space dark cloaks of black, approach a large metallic palace. Desara looks unsurely at the palace and then to the figure. Why does she feel so uncertain? This was her mother's home, yet Desara feels so scared, as if she better off not knowing what lay ahead. Sharply, Desara pulls back and resists going any closer to the looming palace.

"What are you doing, Jedi?" the figure demands in a menacing hiss.

"I-I can't. I can't go in there. I have a bad feeling about this"

"You can and will, you Jedi scum." With a hard shove, the figure forces Desara onward. Several more times Desara tries to keep from moving forward, but each time the figure forces her onward. Finally, the last time she resists, he whips out his lightsaber, activates it, holds it to Desara's throat, and shakes his head as if to say,"Stop one more time, and I'll take my lightsaber to you without a second thought." That ensures that Desara will not stop again.

The two in black continue to press forward, eventually entering the palace and taking a lift up to the throne room. The entire ride up, the figure maintains a deathly tight grip on Desara's left arm. As if the stun cuffs are not enough to remind Desara of her current position, the figure has to emphasize it with his grip. Desara wishes he would just let go, but she knows that he will not, and she is not stupid enough to ask.

At long last, the lift arrives at the level with the throne room, so the two disembark. Upon entering the throne room, Desara spies a large black chair with its back facing the entrance.

"I've brought her. Take her, but don't forget to give me my share."

"My apprentice, have I ever forgotten your share?" a new voice replies.

"I am not your apprentice." With that, the figure turns to leave.

"Wait," the new voice commands, and the figure halts. "Give this to her. Clip it to belt so that she may have a chance." The figure approaches Desara, who holds her breath instinctively. Next, the figure extends his hand and draws an unidentifiable object to himself before going to Desara's left and looking for something on her belt.

"Warning, she's a lefty," the figure declares and he goes to Desara's right and clips the object to her belt. Then he turns and leaves without another word. Desara glances down at her right hip and almost smiles; it is her lightsaber.

Desara clears her throat and stands up straight. "Are- are you Feardorcha?" she asks. The chair does not even turn slightly.

"I am, and you are Desara Faith Solo, daughter of Leia Organa and Han Solo, and niece to Jedi Headmaster Luke Skywalker. You were born on Naboo during a time of violence, and your father left you in your uncle's arms as an infant in hopes of protecting you. Your uncle took you to Maldofy to train you to be a Jedi, and you are searching for the Trials to become a knight." Shock fills Desara.

"How-how did you know that? No one-" Desara stops talking for a second as Feardorcha's words sink in. "My master is my uncle?"

"Yes, but you have had no idea because he wanted to protect you. It is such a shame, though, that all his efforts are in vain. Just think of it: the entire Solo and Skywalker lines erased from the galaxy, and all because of some teenage girls' carelessness."

"My carelessness? What- what carelessness?" Desara asks, oblivious to the plurality of Feardorcha's statement

"You are here, but it was your carelessness and your naivety that brought you here." Again, Feardorcha's words settle in Desara's mind.

"The Solo and Skywalker lines erased? You're going to kill me!" Desara begins backing towards the door until she finds her back against the wall.

"No one ever said _I_ would be the one to kill you, my dear."

"Please, I'm just a teenager. I promise I won't tell anyone. Just let me go find the Trials." _Let me find my family_.

"Why go the Trials when you could bring the Trials to yourself?" The chair spins around so that the occupant can face Desara. Desara gasps in horror. "Yes! Look upon the face of the second Emperor! Look upon the face of me, Feardorcha, while you still can, little girl!" Desara tries desperately to step back as Feardorcha approaches her, but her back is completely against the wall. She starts crying as fear consumes her. Feardorcha is now less than a meter away from her and getting closer. Desara stops fighting and gives up. Feardorcha is within reaching distance. He strokes Desara's cheek. "There, there, future princess. All will be all right." Still sobbing, Desara stares up in the eyes of Feardorcha, the man in the white cloak from before.

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And that's Chapter 8! I hope you all enjoyed reading it because I know for certain that I enjoyed writing it. Also, the next chapter might be triggering to some people because of its violence, so if you are worried that you may be triggered by it, PLEASE DO NOT read it; I'll recap at the end. No chapter is worth sacrificing your mental wellbeing. In addition to that, if any part of this chapter triggered you, please let me know. My wish for you is that you enjoy reading Desara's story, but if something triggered you, and there was no warning, let me know. Don't be embarrassed, please. I have triggers too, so I understand where you are coming from. Please, love yourselves. I love you all dearly, and I am so lucky to have all of your as readers! Thank you for reading! Don't forget to follow, favorite, and review.


	10. Chapter 9

Hey, Butterflies! I am back with what is going to be the next to last chapter! I hope you all have been well! I'm just going to cut straight to the chase and start the chapter. **FYI: this chapter is rated T for teen.**

Disclaimer: _Star Wars_ belongs to Disney.

**Trigger Warning:** **Suicide mentioned and semi-traumatic death. Phrases and sections throughout chapter may be graphic or contain triggers. Please take care of yourselves; there is a recap at the end.**

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**Trigger Warning is effective from here on out!**

So this is how betrayal feels. Like the icy cold stab of a metal knife being plunged into the warm depths of living flesh and flowing blood. That is what betrayal is; that is how it feels. Could this really be what Master had been trying to protect her from this whole time? The pain of betrayal? The pain of having an ally actually be your worst enemy, your worst fear? But how? How could he have lied to her? Did he not realize what would happen once she found out, or did he intend to keep her in blissful ignorance? How naive is she, the girl deceived and taken advantage of by all. Woe is she. Woe is she.

Feardorcha's gentle touch draws Desara out of her mind. But why? Why is he being the way he is when he is who he is? Surely he should have already plunged his lightsaber hilt deep into her flesh, yet he has not. What is it about him that causes his hesitation to finish off the family lines? Should a creature of pain and darkness not be more than willing to end the life of a creature of light?

"Future princess, even though you are doomed to die, I want you to know that Alderaan never forgets its royalty."

Tears well up in Desara's blue eyes. She does not want to die, she does not want to fail. She cannot fail. Not after coming this far. Yet, she is losing hoppe. A tear slips out of her right eye and rolls mournfully down her cheek. Betrayed by her own family and the man before her. Betrayal's sharp blade rotates painfully in Desara's chest. The warmth of her lifeblood slowly drains out with each tear. Would death be better than this? she wonders. With that, the knife of betrayal withdraws and leaves her would to empty her of life.

Her back still pressed against the cool metallic wall, Desara meets Feardorcha's eyes. She can barely hold his gaze without bursting into tears.

"Why?" With that simple question loses control of her tears and lets them go. The anger, the fear, the pain, and lastly the suffering. Why must she suffer because of this man? Why?

Feardorcha wipes a tear away from Desara's mouth with his thumb. "Because, future princess, you deserve respect regardless of your fate." Feardorcha's words push Desara over an edge, so she snaps. She cannot handle it.

"Don't call me that. I'm no princess; I'm not my mother." The tears will not stop flowing, and they disrupt Desara's words. "Just kill me now. I refuse to live long enough to see you rule if you will be like that," she chokes out. Desara cries a moment more. Finally, she pushes Feardorcha away with her shoulder and slouches to the ground sobbing. Meanwhile, Feardorcha only watches the teenager succumb to her emotions, thinking of how much she could be. There is something strangely beautiful about her emotions, something he wishes he had.

"As you wish." Feardorcha grabs Desra and pulls her to her feet. "But you get a fighting chance." Desara watches in awe as Feardorcha steps away from her, turns his back to her, and begins slowly counting.

However, Desara soon realizes what Feardorcha is doing, and she almost starts running. Then she remembers the stun cuffs on her wrists. She has to get them off or else she will not survive this. Her mind flicks back to the bounty hunters when Eviowh banged on the shackles to make them open. If she could just hit the wall at the right speed with the right part of the cuffs. Four times Desara tries and fails to release her arms, using only momentum to swing her arms, but on the fifth try, she hits the cuffs in the spot where they connect, against her hip; they burst open.

"Two . . ." Uh oh. Feardorcha is almost done counting. Desara slides into the lift and closes the door right as Feardorcha reaches one. She is safe, for now.

The lift stops on a floor Desara has not seen before. There is a long hallway with doors sparsely sprinkled along the walls. Suddenly, the door to the lift starts to close, so Desara leaps out of the lift and rolls forcefully on the floor. She sighs, brushes herself off, and checks for any breaks or sprains. Thank the Force that she is only slightly bruised and scraped. Then Desara remembers the lift, so she takes off running down the hall. She knows she cannot run forever; she steps into a random room and backs into the darkest area as she wraps the cloak Ré had given her tightly around herself. If she can hide until the Force inhibitors wear off, she might just have a chance of surviving. Only, how long does she have until the Force inhibitors wear off, and how long can she keep this up?

Desara's mind flashes back to just before the figure in the white cloak, who she now knows is Feardorcha, first appeared. The stun cuffs had fallen off, and Voltan had shouted at Eviowh, saying that he thought Eviowh had told him the Force inhibitors were good for another five hours. But that was a while ago. Who knows how much longer she has. Then another thought strikes her. What will it feel like when the inhibitors wear off? Desara's face contorts in confusion, and her lips curl in over her teeth; her eyebrows knit themselves together as worry creases her ovally-diamond shaped face. No, she tells herself, I have to keep it together. Getting distracted is not going to keep me alive, not here, not now. Eventually Desara pulls herself together and starts to run methodical calculations in her mind of when the inhibitors will wear off. It takes a few tries, but she eventually gets a close guess. An hour, two max, and those will fly by. Then and only then will she face Feardorcha. Only then will she face the fate someone else laid for her.

All of a sudden, the dreaded white cloak of Feardorcha appears out of thin air. Stifling a gasp, Desara shuts her eyes and holds completely still, her heart pounding in her chest. If he sees her, she is as good as dead, so hopefully the room is still dark enough for her to blend in. Feardorcha searches the room a light switch, but is unable to find one. Instead, he reaches under his cloak, to his left hip, and whips out his lightsaber. Much to Desara's surprise and horror, the hilt is not much different than her own. When he ignites his weapon, it gives off pure white light, but the blade is not white. It is clear iridescent, just like Desara's. No! This means that Feardorcha _is_ the man from her visions. Desara feels her back pressing against the wall; she has no way to escape, and since this man is the man from her visions, she will surely die.

Feardorcha uses his lightsaber as a light source as he scours the room. Desara feels her heart rate rapidly increasing as he moves closer to where she is. She tenses as the sound of the lightsaber grows louder, and she opens her eyes when it sounds very close. Sure enough, Feardorcha has the lightsaber blade only centimeters from her face. Feardorcha smiles maliciously. Then he takes a step closer and holds his blade point millimeters away from the top of Desara's neck. If not for the electromagnetic field encasing the blade, the heat it would be giving off would surely be enough to make Desara sweat. Out of the blue, Desara reaches for her lightsaber, ignites it while hoping she is holding it the right way, and knocks Feardorcha's away from her neck. Then she glances upwards and spies an air vent. She smiles and tosses her lightsaber in the air, making herself vulnerable. The blade strikes the cover on the vent, knocking it off; Desara jumps just high enough to grab on and pulls herself up; she deactivates her lightsaber and starts crawling. All those runs on the obstacle course really did come in handy.

Then, the shafts start collapsing, starting behind Desara and quickly working their way towards her. Desara lets out a few of the words she learned from the bounty hunters. Then she starts crawling as fast as she possibly can along the shaft.

"Note to self: the air shafts are _**never**_ a good place to hide."

Desara keeps crawling until she reaches a three-way fork. Hoping her instinct is right, Desara takes the left fork. Out of the blue, Desara is hit with an overwhelming sensation of everything living in the galaxy being connected to her all at once. She hears millions of voices speaking, and then everything goes quiet. The sensation is short, but extremely painful. Did the Force inhibitors just wear off?

"Desara. Desara, come to us," a voice calls.

"We've been without you for so long, Desara. Come, let us be a family again." Desara shuts her eyes. Those voices, how do they know her name? Why do they want to be her family? Desara gasps. Could this be where her family has been the entire time? Excitedly, Desara crawls at a Force enhanced speed until she is at the end of the air shaft unless she feels like crawling straight into a fan. When Desara looks down, she sees a vent, so she kicks it out and jumps out of the shaft. She lands with a thud, and when she looks up, she sees _them_, the people she's been looking for since her search for the Trials began, her family. Her mom is dressed in hues of red and white, and her father is in hues of brown and tan. There is a tall Wookie, who Desara assumes is her godfather.

"Desara, my baby. You've grown so much," her mom says as she runs to embrace her daughter.

"Quite the Solo you've gotten to be," her father smirks with a chuckle. Her godfather roars happily.

"It's been so long. Have you been here the entire time?" Desara asks, crying tears of pure joy.

"Yes, and we've been waiting for you. Now, come Desara, let's go home," Desara's mom replies.

"But, I can't. I still need to pass the Trials. I need to defeat Feardorcha."

"Desara, Feardorcha rules this planet. He's the one who restored it," her father says calmly.

"No." Desara starts shaking her head and backing up. "No. I'd rather forget I ever met you than stay here and live while Feardorcha reigns." As Desara reaches for the door, her godfather grabs her hands and stops her. Then she has a vision.

_Two men and a woman, all surrounded by a blue outline discuss a matter heatedly. The taller of the men is yelling at his ginger brother, and the woman tries to calm the two men down._

"_You cheated on me! How dare you!" the taller of the men shouts to the woman. "You were my wife!"_

"_Is she not your wife now?" the ginger asks, rather snarkily._

"_Enough, both of you. Honey, it was an accident. Neither of us meant-"_

"_I don't care what you meant or didn't mean to do! You still did it! What are they going to say when they find out? What is she going to do when she finds out?" There is sincere and profound worry in the last question._

"_I don't know, but you could always make an appeal." The woman reaches out to place a hand on the taller man's shoulder._

"_Don't. Just don't touch me."_

Coming out of the vision gives Desara a new insight, though the vision seemed to be totally unrelated to the current situation."This- this isn't real." Desara is almost on the verge of hysterics. "I knew it. None of you are real." With those words, her family vanishes, and a door opens. Desara runs through it, down some stairs, and is outside in no time.

Once outside, Desara pauses for a second to process what has just taken place. She now knows what her family looks like, so she knows what to look for later on. That is, if she survives this.

"I see you've made it outside the palace alive," Feardorcha hisses.

"Did you really think I'd die in there?" Desara hisses back.

"I had some hope."

"So tell me, Feardorcha, why are you trying to wipe out my family lines? What's in it for you if you kill me?"

"Simple, I get my father's empire back, and I don't have to consider the glorious Skywalker and Solo lines as a threat to my reign."

Desara pauses for a minute, as if she is unsure of what to say. Then her words collect themselves. "I know you're the one from my visions. Tell me, why are our lightsabers so alike?" Feardorcha takes a long moment to contemplate Desara's questions. Either he is stalling, or he genuinely has to think; Desara cannot determine which.

"I would assume, Solo, that it is because our personalities are so alike. After all, color does equate personality." Desara tries to counter his statement and explain how different they are, but the words will not come out. "Now, then let's see if our skills are any where near as similar as our lightsabers." Feardorcha whips out his weapon and ignites it with a snap-hiss. Desara jumps away from him and whips out her own weapon. At first, Desara takes the offensive, but her attempts to strike blows are countered, and her strength is already fading from all she has experienced. When she backs down, Feardorcha and Desara get into defensive positions, waiting for the next one to attack.

After a while, Feardorcha lunges at Desara, who ducks to escape his blow, and singes the top of her hair. The fight is more difficult than either anticipated due to the fact that Desara is left handed, but Feardorcha is not, yet they make it work. Eventually, Feardorcha swings at Desara's neck, and when she goes to block it, Feardorcha takes his blade to her left arm, striking as deep as the bone, but not damaging the bone. Desara cries out in pain as her lightsaber is knocked out of her left hand. Quickly, she recovers and calls her lightsaber to her right hand, and she continues fighting, though with less skill.

"Now, isn't that better? Now we can actually cross our blades rather than just holding them out to the sides." Obvious hints of malice creep into Feardorcha's voice.

"You're going to wish you hadn't done that, Feardorcha." Desara then begins an offensive approach, not realizing that she and Feardorcha and very near a cliff. Suddenly, the tables turn, and Desara is slowly being forced closer to the cliff's edge. Desara senses something telling her to look behind her, so she does so and realizes that she is decimeters away from the edge. However, in that split second, Feardorcha Force pulls Desara's lightsaber right out of her hand and Force pushes her to the ground; he begins advancing towards her, a lightsaber in each hand.

"Funny, I get to kill you at the very same cliff where I killed your family fifteen years ago. I never thought this day would come." Accepting the situation, Desara glances behind her as she cautiously scoots backwards. When she reaches the edge of the cliff and can no longer move back, she places the palms of her hands firmly on the ground, lies back, tosses her legs up over her shoulders, and rolls.

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That's all I'm going to give you all for this chapter. And I apologize, Butterflies, for making you all wait for so long to read this; my life has been pretty stressful, and I've had more than enough meltdowns and sleepless nights. I'll try to have the next chapter posted as soon as I can. You all mean so much to me, and I love you all so dearly. Thank you reading. Don't forget to follow, favorite, and review!


	11. Epilogue

Hey, Butterflies! I'm back, and I have with me the Epilogue for _Shadows of the Past_! I have enjoyed writing this so much, and I appreciate you all for reading and waiting patiently for each chapter. You all mean so much to me, and if you enjoyed this stand alone introduction, add me to your Author Alerts or keep an eye out for when I post the sequel. That's all I've got, so let's get started!

Disclaimer: _Star Wars_ belongs to Disney.

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A cold, metallic feeling covering her nose and mouth that forces her to breathe is the first thing she notices. Then she feels the liquid around her; it is neither hot nor cold, yet both at the same time. Slowly, she opens her eyes. Once they are open, she begins to move around a little. Her right arm and both legs hit the glass around her, but her left arm is folded very close to her body; she is in a tank and surrounded by a blue liquid. The world outside the tank is blurry, but she can make out through the blue liquid, her uncle's form and several medical droids. Her uncle points towards the tank, and she feels herself being lifted out of the tank, placed on a medical bed, and covered with a blanket. The droids remove the mask, and she takes her first free breath. Then she looks up at her uncle and turns her head away. But her uncle bends down to her level and hugs her, tears falling down his face as he does so. Neither says a word as they enjoy the moment, the last moment they have before their lives change forever.

"Master, where- where am I?" she asks weakly.

"You're in the medical bay, my niece, in the Jedi Temple."

"Temple?"

"On Coruscant." Shock crosses her face at her uncle's words.

"Master, what about Maldofy? Did I pass my Trials?"

Her uncle looks to her and sympathetically smiles. "You won't be returning to Maldofy, my niece. You passed all but the most important Trial, the Trial of Spirit; you cannot become a Knight." She clenches the sides of the bed as tears fall. She failed. "And, I won't be your master anymore."

"What?" she asks.

"Master Cyrill Azam, the Assistant Headmaster of Behavior and Placement, will be your master from now on, Desara." Desara leans back forcefully rests her head against the back of the bed, crying. She failed, and these are the consequences. She will never become a Knight, nor will she find out what happened or if Feardorcha was lying.

Suddenly, the doors open, and an older Chagrian walks in, his Jedi robes flowing behind him.

"Headmaster," he says with a bow, "is she alright?" Desara's uncle nods and gestures towards her. "Greetings, Padawan Solo." Desara bows her head. "I'm Master Cyrill Azam. You'll be training under me until you learn what it takes to become a Knight."

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And that's the end! I have greatly enjoyed writing this, and I hope you all have enjoyed reading it. I love you all so much, and thank you all to the _Star Wars_ galaxy and back for reading. Don't forget to follow, favorite, and review, my Butterflies! Bye!


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